Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on February 23, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

I close my eyes, and breathe deep. There is nothing like the scent, the sensation, of hot water tumbling pell mell into a bath, my bath, on a cold winter’s night. The rushing sounds, the waves of hot wet air and that indescribable smell. Expectation rises, as, slowly I strip off and turn off the taps. Testing the water, far too hot as yet; reluctantly I add some cold, as little as I dare and in goes the first foot — “ah ah ah ah ah ” — TOO HOT!!! But no, persevering, half dancing the heat away as its partner joins it and, fearfully, you sit, then lie, emitting those pained gasps as the heat hits home. “Aaaaaah”. Endorphins rush and relaxation grabs you forcibly, and, quite unbidden your toes find the hot tap to add that little bit more.

Lying back, eyes closed, the world vanishes. You are alone, in a sea of delicious sensation. Bubbles brush you on your shoulders and legs where they break the water, and dreams can start. Words pour into my mind, stumbling, bumbling, fumbling, humbling words, competing and retreating, advancing and entrancing, fighting to fit into ideas, to make nonsensical sense out of nothing at all, they tease me. Pleasure drips and time dies, you and you and you walk into my head, stay awhile and metamorphose into strange and wonderful avatars for existence. From time to time my toes decide to add to the heat, but eventually, and far too soon, the water cools, my feet and hands are impossibly wrinkled, and the dreams are done. the water runs away. And I lie, satisfied under a soft and warm towel, unwilling to move, unwilling to acknowledge that life must go on.

At last some part of the cacophony that filled my head demands attention and, pulling my laptop, or a pad of slightly damp paper into place I condense internal magic into a few simple lines, and sleep awhile. My time is over, I must return, refreshed and reawakened, just in time for bed!