Fermenting

I have been fermenting today,
There is a restlessness.
It produces gaseous exchanges.
That distend me and burst out at intervals.
It is yeasty,
Like my bread dough.
It is damp and mouldy,
Like my Winter wet house.
And it fizzes like Kombucha.
There is a sickening sweet smell pervading,
Like mature cheese.
And it craves sugar,
To feed its voracious appetite.
Perhaps some crispness,
Sunny Summer salad,
And light exercise in a drier climate will dispel it.



 

Another Grey Wet Day

Chilled to the marrow,
Cold weighs heavy on every joint.
So in bed I sit and write.
Thermals on,
And my 'hottie' my best companion.
This torpor,
With only my mind wandering unfettered.
It roams outside in the natural landscape.
A montane heath,
Delicate herbs and spiky shrubs,
A babbling rock strewn cascade,
Round lichen covered boulders of granite.
My body in malaise,
Indoors.
My mind suffocating,
Gasps for the reviving air of outside.