On Sleeping Alone.
oh my oh my what big teeth you have you letters of love smelling of sandlewood in your special box of disappointment and raging not sleeping soundly remembering that you should be the start of the happy ever after story not the little girl swallowed whole to be saved by the woodman and his wielded axe.
wolves in sheeps clothing grannies bonnets tied with a ribbon under their sweet little chins
now I sit tight on the lid, Pandora was not heavy in her hips like me not grounded by her own strong living days and nights
I am drawn instead to my own songs to let them sing in the fresh air love letters to myself
wearing the blue slip with the butterflies I take up the pretty teapot for one the scratchy pen the days the life floating lonely happy and sad
the blank sheets.
Deborah Alma was born in London and lives in Ludlow. She writes poetry, runs poetry workshops for children and dementia sufferers and is studying for an MA in Creative Writing at Keele University. She is also Emergency Poet in her 1960’s ambulance.