Diving in Again

All the great works (and mine)

All the great works (and mine)

It’s always this way after some time off. Reluctant to dive back in again, yet desperate to start. But normal life beckons, and changing the beds after all the holiday guests have gone home, was something of a step back to the routines of a household at work, not play.

On the fifth bed, and wading through an ocean of sheets and laundry, I found myself pondering on the thrilling realities of motherhood and running a house, versus all the other stuff – painting, art, poetry, and hey, let’s push the boat out, gin and tonics on the lawn. And so I remembered this poem. I wrote it in the year 2000, and the baby with the leading role is 10 months old. It took me a while to find it, but there it was in an old notebook, scribbled in a furious hand. Some of the ink was almost washed away – tears, or sea water? We’ll never know.

On the High Seas

While I was


the duvet cover


a crocodile

thrashing & flailing

you managed

to climb up

the bookcase

attracted by


and the green spine of

The Metaphysical Poets

from your

crow’s nest

you threw down

like fishheads

to sharks

all the great works:





you scattered them

with your

dimpled fists

and I loved you

I loved you

and I laughed

as the pages


across the water


on the breakers


on the sands


sound the cannon!

you took up

the page

the one published page

of my poetry

and reduced it

to pulp

with your




little teeth

(c) Trudi Murray 16.5.00

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