This is how my head has been today:
I will knit dark brooding fairisle moors of tweed and heather,
And embellish felted woolly skies with constellations of glittering beads.
I will make swirling mosaic auroras of sea glass and iridescent shells,
Refracting watery rainbows of northern light.
I will featherstitch together my scattered dreams into a patchwork archipelago,
And hide beneath it, soothed by quilted waves of memories.
I will write of islands and loneliness,
Until the selkies sing me to sleep.
Needless to say, with so many ideas, I can’t settle for long enough to start any of them. Tired, chaotic and frustrated. Tomorrow has to be better.