Tag Archives: rebellion


They remember
marveling at their child of light
stirring beneath quilt and blanket,
perking up to see them,
wakening each day
with a perfect smile.

Without a sound,
the chill,
like a stir in the air,

A  shower gel smell,
steamy fresh,
wafts from the bathroom,
trails through his bedroom into the kitchen,
collides and is swallowed
with the coffee.

He rifles through the closet,
argues about which shirt,
which pants.
There is no coaxing him.
He takes to debating when
the T.V. anchorman
tells his news.

he punctuates every need,
before he goes
to the basement,

a fresh little rebel
waiting in his lair, poised
to march forward

and away.


I took Calen’s lovely poem, Mornings,  and cruelly twisted into another shape. Thank you Calen, for inviting me to corrupt your words.

©Jane Paterson Basil



I didn’t feel like getting dressed this morning, so I stayed in my rather handsome blue striped cotton pyjamas, then I remembered how, several weeks ago I silently pledged to do something different every day. I reckoned I hadn’t made any particular changes for a few days. I didn’t feel like tidying the bed, so I decided to abandon the habit of a lifetime and leave it as it was. In addition, I didn’t open the curtains and I didn’t shower. Altogether, these omissions amounted to four changes, and I reckoned that got me up to date.

I expected to feel liberated, but instead I feel imprisoned; I can’t go outside, because I’m not dressed and, anyway, I feel too grubby to face the world; and I don’t want to go in the bedroom to retrieve a book I left on the bedside cabinet, because I don’t want to see the unmade bed.

I’m beginning to suspect that today changes may not have been the right kind, and am wondering when I ceased to be a rebel.

Please excuse me for a few minutes – I’m off to make the bed, draw back the curtains, shower, and get dressed.

©Jane Paterson Basil