They call it “brain fog”

No foggy feeling comes from this poem...and I know the feeling! Your voice here, is crystal clear, lovely and sweet... I very much enjoyed your poem, Anni... Gentle regards, and many Bright Weavings. Raven

Its been a long time, but I could not resist putting in my two pence on this one. You know I'm an inveterate smooth rhymester so the version below you might consider trips off that dulcet tongue with just a few more bells on it lol. Tell me whats going on if you get time. Plenty of BWs, Keith A bundle of words in my pocket I used to wield them so well Now there’s a hole in the fabric My sentences all gone to hell. I'm shaking my head like its helping, My hand upon my brow, I press and I squirm But the slippery worm slides off my tongue-tip somehow. It isn’t quantity in life but precision that appeals, I long for a rest at life’s comforting breast And the peace that truly heals I never seem to find the time, Or perhaps I just forgot. It’s not that I’m getting older I just seem to have lost the plot.

Very clever and witty. It is so very good to see you posting again! Always, Cat

Ann of Norway Dearest Anni, don't worry you haven't lost IT!! You can still weave a yarn in poetry well, I can tell. I did however agree with the Professor too, don't you? I give it full house however for your endeavour My Anni at home. Love Annushka.