A Right Brain Mind in a Left Brain World

by Jean Long

  Footsteps pound on the stairs

  Will this nightmare ever end

  Long time now has passed us by

  All's long gone and forgotten

  And one day you hang your head and say

  How difficult kids are today

  We turn and smile of memories

  Not long gone but not forgotten

  FOR BOYS AND I

  I am a lady of lost love

  Twice over now some years

  I ask God why he took from me

  The loves I held so dear

  But I've had no reply

  On how they had to die

  Or why it had to be me

  Did I not love them strong enough

  Was I wrong to want them to stay

  Was it wrong for you to take them away

  Who is right and who is wrong

  Why did you take so long

  Leaving me all alone

  In this oh so empty home

  What now should I do

  I suppose it’s up to you

  Why can't you take me too

  I wonder what way I'd go

  But it would make a mighty show

  Of parents who really care

  But know I wouldn’t dare

  So I'll say a little prayer

  You'll wait for me

  It might take a little while

  And one day you'll hold a hand out to me

  And I'll take it its home for me

  At the end of my days

  Starts a new beginning

  For the boys and I

  CHERISHED

  Sweetness and light

  Blue eyes twinkling

  Little arms fold around

  Promises made promises broken

  Tears and tantrums

  Forgotten not spoken

  Fairy tales are told in twos

  Bedtime full of boo who who's

  Morning arises with shouts of glee

  As you learn your 1,2,3's and abc's

  Names remembered places too

  Just as I remember you

  As your tiny hand sits in mine

  I think of all the laughs

  The love the joy

  You bring to us and I sigh

  And wonder why or who

  Would not want a soul such as you

  Do they wonder where you are

  Do they care if you're near or far

  We will always share with you

  How you came to us a blessing

  And if one day you want to find

  We'll help you through that door

  But for now know we love you

  As god above is our judge

  We will never budge from your side

  HAVE YOU EVER BEEN WITCHY

  HUNTING

  Have you ever been Witchy hunting

  Oh what fun it can be

  Down through the meadow

  Over the stream

  In through the nuck under the brook

  And there in the hollow of the tree

  You can find me

  Watching and waiting

  For the sight of her broom

  So once I have spied her

  I will climb up beside her

  And frighten the old dear

  right off of her broom

  As she falls to the stream

  I can hear a big scream

  As she splatters and splutters

  She just tries to mutter a spell

  But she is washed clean

  And I can't help but beam

  At the silly look on her face

  As she jumps up and down

  with a terrible frown

  Shaking her fists and throwing big sticks

  She soon begins to cry

  For now she knows she must be good

  So I saddle up beside her

  And put my arm around her

  And tell her that now we are friends

  We can play all day and have fun in the hay

  And as she begins to smile off fall her warts

  Her lumps and her bumps

  And her teeth turn pearly white

  As her hair loses frizz it curls in a whiz

  And a beautiful young lady unfolds

  So next time you go witching hunting

  be sure you do it well or you'll end up

  under her spell and smell !!

  BUT I'M NOT SURE

  It is so cold in here, I shiver.

  I haven’t been here before, but why am I here now.

  The silence is eerie I think to myself.

  But why am I here, for what reason and why am I lying down.

  Where are my cloths, who took my cloths, it’s so cold in here and I shiver.

  I think I hear my teeth chattering, but I’m not sure.

  And why am I only covered with this silly sheet.

  If this is a joke it’s not funny, well I’m not laughing am I.

  Know I’m not it’s too cold, and I shiver.

  Why are the lights turned down so low, you can hardly see.

  I think I can hear my teeth chatter, but I’m not sure.

  I think I see a door opening, but I’m not sure.

  No no it’s a door opening, I can see the light shining through.

  Yes it is a door, the more it opens the brighter the light becomes.

  Is that someone waving, I’m not sure, and I’m so cold I shiver.

  But yes it is someone waving, but I can’t make out whom.

  Who is that waving, I’m not sure?

  Why won’t they come closer so I can see them?

  I can feel the warmth coming from the light that shines through.

  I want to go to it, but I can’t seem to move.

  Oh for god’s sake, why can’t I move.

  I try and call for whoever is waving to come and help me.

  But nothing comes out and for the first time I think to myself.

  Oh for god’s sake I might as well be dead!

  A WHISPERING WISH

  Let me take your hand let me take you there

  To that place called love where we want to share

  Let us linger in the aftermath of that sweet scent of desire

  As we become one joined we sore to heights

  Where it is just you and I

  This moment captured forever in a time capsule

  Never to be forgotten

  All that is left is for me to find you

  You the one how hard can that be

  THE BEAST OF THE BEAUTY

  Its life span is never the same

  Yet it lives a glorious life

  From its youth it has such beauty

  Young strong it grows and grows

  Stretching up and up

  As a bud, its dew so sweet

  Arousing colour outside is pale

  Its shade, not quite ready yet.

  But in such a short time it blooms.

  A radiance, of colour so vivid and rich.

  So soft to touch but not yet to hold.

  So perfect in shape, each petal perfectly

  formed.

  But oh such beauty, such perfection

  Still it has its faults.

  It's Thorns.

  ONE OF HEAVENS ANGELS

  How I wonder did she slip by the arms of heavens gate

  For she surely is an angel come down from up above

  To sing for us her glorious chorus

  To make us smile for the tales she will tell

  As she slips a hand around us and calls us friend

  Sure surely she has a heart of gold

  For I have never known her to be bold

  She can be giddy and fun and full of the sun

  For her smiles are known far and wide

  You should see her in her stride

  To defend friend or neighbour

  Or maybe do a favor for she is awful kind

  And never seems to mind

  For her name is Katie Mc

&n
bsp; And sure she is the greatest criac

  We all love and adore her and couldn’t be more surer

  That she would call us friend and love us till the end

  This is for one of the sweetest friends we know

  GOING HOME

  The screech of brakes, as we pulled into Willow station, almost deafens my ear drums. I watch as people hurry onto the platform.

  Today has been a long time coming, fifteen years to be exact. As I look around, nothing seems to have changed. Everything looks as if I only left yesterday. The same little red ticket office and tuck shop with today’s papers hanging outside. It’s as if the last fifteen years have never existed here.

  How I wish that were true. I wonder why I am standing waiting around. I mean it’s not as if anyone is expecting me, is it? After all why would they? I walked out of their lives fifteen years ago without as much as a call or card to tell them where or how I was.

  I pick up my bag and walk to the nearest exit. I push the door open just as a lady on the other side is making her way in. I keep my head down so as not to be seen. Just as I think I’m in the clear, the woman turns and says,

  ‘Excuse me dear, I think you’ve just dropped your paper.’

  ‘Oh yes, thank you,’ I mumble, keeping my head down. As I take the paper the woman hands me, I can’t help but glance up and smile my thanks. Oh God no, it’s Mrs. Harris! She looks at me a little surprised.

  ‘Well, goodness me,’ she flashes, ‘for a moment there you reminded me of someone I used to know. How silly of me!’ Mrs. Harris just smiles and hurries on her way.

  I let out a small cry of relief. There isn’t anything much that passes Mrs. Harris by. If she didn’t know about it – well, it just didn’t happen. Old eagle eye, that’s what Ma used to call her.

  Outside I look around for the nearest taxi. I could walk but I think that there’s more chance of being seen. I have chosen a hotel just outside town and think it best to get there as soon as possible. Just as I arrive at the rank the first taxi pulls in.

  The guy driving is not familiar to me, a young man in his early twenties - maybe. He jumps out to open the boot to load my bag.

  ‘Now where can I take you?’ he asks politely, all the while chewing on a match stick.

  ‘The Harbour Hotel please.’ I reply, trying to sound positive as if I’d been there before.

  ‘Oh,’ the driver says, and I wonder if he is disappointed with the fare.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Yes, of course I’m sure.’ I try a smile but my face feels frozen, so I quickly get into the back of the car and pretend to be looking for something in my jacket pocket.

  I can feel the driver’s eyes on me as he looks at me in his rear view mirror when we drive off. ‘You haven’t been here before then?’ he asks, smiling into the mirror as I look up.

  ‘Well you could kind of say that. Let’s just say it’s been a while.’ I smile, beginning to feel comfortable in his company.

  ‘So, what brings you back to Willow?’

  ‘Oh, just to catch up with some old friends.’ I am trying hard not to say too much. We seem to have no sooner started out when we arrive at the small hotel.

  I hadn’t realised the hotel would be quite so near. It seems ridiculous to have taken a taxi for such a short journey. I understand now why the taxi driver was smiling. He must think me a right idiot. But I just turn my head and smile at him as if this is something I do every day and got out of the car. I wait for him to retrieve my bag while fishing out some money to pay him. I hand him the note as he hands me my bag and tell him to keep the change.

  ‘You have a nice day now’ he says, in a mock American accent. Before he could say any more I hurry to get inside. But once inside I’m in another state of panic.

  The lobby is a quite central area with plush seating situated here and there. Off to the right I can see a dining room. Tables are being set for the coming evening while soft music plays in the back ground. The walls in the lobby are covered in abstract art. Paintings with large splashes of vivid colour matching the soft furnishings. Clean, crisp and bright, just as the internet site has described.

  As I approach the reception desk, all I can see is a blonde head of hair, bent over, looking down at something or other. The panic rises in my throat again. What if this is someone I know? I try to keep my breathing even, in through my nose and out through my mouth, or is it the other way round? I can never remember. Oh come on, pull yourself together, I think.

  It turns out the young polish girl has everything ready for me. All I have to do is sign the register and tell her what I would like for breakfast in the morning. Having ordered dinner from room service, which I am informed is ‘to be delivered in about twenty minutes’, I took the key and made my way up. Better not take any chances in the dining room, I think.

  I arrive at my allocated room - a double.

  The young polish girl has taken the time to ask me if this is satisfactory as it is all that is available for tonight. I can change again tomorrow if I want to. Otherwise, the room is mine for my stay. I assured her it will be fine. I am very pleased to have a big bed in which to stretch. The room is quite large. It has French doors leading out on to a balcony looking over the sand dunes. I can smell the salt in the air as I watch the sun go down. I mentally try to relax. There is still time to change my mind. Nobody will ever know I have here.

  ‘Let’s just see how tonight goes,’ I say to myself.

  What in god’s name is that buzzing sound? My mind is hazy for just a moment. Where am I? Oh god, yes, I remember, closing my eyes shut again as if this will make it all go away. Now, along with the buzzing noise, there comes a knocking noise too.

  ‘Room service!’ I hear someone shout outside my door. I quickly jump out of bed, look at the clock, not believing I had slept so well, considering. I hurry to find the complimentary robe the hotel has left out for me. I open the door while trying to tie the belt at the same time.

  ‘Where would you like me to leave this tray love?’

  Oh good god, I think I am about to faint. With my head still bent, I run for the bathroom.

  ‘Anywhere is fine.’ I lock myself in, still shouting. ‘That’s lovely, just leave it anywhere and thank you very much!’

  I don’t know what else to do. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Oh dear god, her of all people to deliver my breakfast. I stand at the bathroom door listening but I can’t hear a thing. What if she’s still waiting out there? I am not ready to face her yet. I open the bathroom door and walk out, head bent, humming a senseless tune, but the room is empty.

  I just sink to my knees, my legs feel so weak. How did I ever think I could do this? As soon as I have some sweet tea and toast I’ll ring for a taxi to get out of here. I will take the first train out, no matter where it is going to. Yes, I think, that’s what I’ll do. I will ring reception and ask them to have a taxi waiting. But then I think, I’ll have to stop at reception to pay the bill. Damn, I’ll just have to keep my head down while I settle the bill. At least that will add to the taxi fare.

  Once again, I try the relaxing breathing technique my therapist has taught me over the years. But, as ever, I find it difficult to do in a higher state of anxiety. In my mind, I start to count backwards from a hundred and slowly I begin to feel my breathing ease. Finally I am able to relax enough to drink some tea. I make myself eat some toast as I pour myself more tea from the pot.

  I think now of the things the therapist and I have discussed over there and get it over with’.

  ‘There you are love,’ the taxi man says fiddling with the meter.

  ‘That’ll be three euro please.’

  I hand him a five euro note and tell him to keep the change. As I get out and close the car door, I keep my eyes on the front door of the house. Again, I feel like nothing has changed. I open the gate trying to do it as quietly as I can, so as not to alert anyone of my presence just yet. I want to be at the door before they know
I’m here.

  I look at the door in front of me now and think of the last time I closed it behind me. It seems like a lifetime ago. I suddenly think now, is this really something this old woman needs to hear? Is it something she will understand, how I left as one person and came back as someone else, after all this time? I begin to realise, this isn’t just about my needs I have to consider her needs too. After all, it’s only fair.

  There goes the alarm call, I can’t believe I have slept so soundly again. I make my way to the bathroom when there is a knock to the door.

  ‘Room service!’ I hear her say as I walk to the door and open it back.

  ‘Ah, there you are love,’ she says and brings the tray into the room, ‘where will I put it for you?’

  ‘Oh, anywhere,’ I say, standing there looking right into her face. ‘I hear from young Patrick that you had a big win in the bingo lately.’

  ‘Well, the little devil.’ She smiles, ‘that grandson of mine can never keep his mouth shut.’

  ‘Grandson?’ I say, a little taken aback. ‘He didn’t mention that.’

  ‘Yes, well that’s something at least, that young fella talks no end, never knows when to shut up. He reminds us of my eldest son, dead now this past fifteen years.’ I can see the tears forming in her eyes now as I walk to her and put my arm around her shoulder. ‘It still breaks my heart to think of him,’ she says quietly. ‘I always knew he was a little different from the rest. He was excessively soft as a boy. He had the mannerisms of a girl, if you know what I mean. But I loved him all the more. His father could never understand him. Said he should cop on to himself and would have the others laugh at him and call him a sissy. One day, we woke up and he was gone. I’ve resigned myself to the fact now that he is dead. After John my husband died, we had Denis’s name added to the grave stone.’

  Standing here, with my arm around her shoulder and the biggest lump in my throat, I wanted to tell her how much I love her, now, even more. To think she knew my secret all along. But I realise it is best left unsaid. After all, the day that I walked into the hospital for my surgery, was the day Denis died for me too.

  ‘You know, Mrs. O’Conner, he was a lucky boy to have had a mother like you. I’m sure you made him very happy. Who knows maybe he is out there in the world having a whale of a time.’