Just for fun, and because a bit of playfulness is good for the soul, here is a whimsical poemishthing about Makebelieve. The words were spun for me by the spider who briefly resided in the top-right corner of my bedroom window… ;)


What fun it would be
to ride on the spider’s back – wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! –
paragliding off the curtain pole,
a trail of spun dewdrops in our wake
I wonder, do spiders throw their legs
as they plummet towards the radiator?

Makebelieve, makebelieve, where else shall I go?

I could…

fall up high, high in the sky,
to float on a boat – a skyboat! – riding the crests of cloud-waves,
hands for oars, scoop up rainpebbles,
send them skimming across the wide blue yonder…
Perhaps one of them might splish onto your forehead.
You might wipe it off with the tip of a finger, hold it there, a bead of light.
Now the light is set free again, to be everywhere!

I might…

alight on a lilypad in the drumming rain,
take shelter beneath the frog’s bellows,
Ribbit, ribbit, ribBIT! he croaks
to a percussion of dragonflywings!
Mmmm, the sweet stench of pondslime
tickleweeds licking at the secret gaps between my toes
where even thoughts don’t reach…

Maybe I’ll…

dive like a mermaid
make mischief flapping my tail against the hulls of
great, groaning metal whales
say ‘shhhhhhhh!’ to the octopus
as we wriggle backwards into his lair
and watch, and listen, and…
I expect I will meet Neptune there, out patrolling with his enormous
I would shake his cool clammy hand, braid his saltsticky hair
as the fishes blow bubbles and stare and stare
plip-plop. Plip. Plop…

Oh, look! There go the decorator crabs, scuttling by,
bickering over wallpaper patterns.

Perhaps then I will…

get most splendidly lost in the greenvelvet woods,
having foolishly taken directions from a quite-real, and therefore duplicitous fairy,
go acorn-scrumping,
get chased through the grass by a furious, chuntertrilling squirrel,
running, running, like a stream coursing over pebbles!
Hehe, I might creep up behind an owl and SCREECH.
Really loudly. To make him jump. Although…
when an owl is surprised, how would one know?

And while imaginary time is running amok
the clock befuddled, hereandthere all muddled,

I shall probably build a time machine!
clunkwhirwhoosh, back to my enchanted childhood garden
where I will bury my nose in the pillowy black soil
beneath the sagely nodding peony bush
and boop snoots with the mole
who was my friend…

and – assuming I can get there-and-back
before it’s time to put the dinner on –
I could land my machine on red-eyed old Mars!
Surely the Rovers up there are tired,
a bit lonely,
and would like to sit by my side and point at the stars…

And while travelling back
from there, to here
I will make a wish
which is this:

to curl up beside you,
drape my legs over yours
rest my head against your chest
place my ear to your heart
feel the warmth of your armpit
against the nape of my neck
lace my fingers around yours
a fingerchurch!
a small, sacred place
big enough only
for you, and me…


Oh, it’s GOOD to be home…