Dreaming One Day Escaping… Poem by Margaret Alice

While one colleague is organizing church affairs, another
two are discussing work-on-hand and duties for the week

I’m sitting here, wondering where the little bits of meaning
went I had prepared this week-end, why I feel so wrong

And out of sorts sitting in my chair, looking out over buildings,
a boring picture, green trees to the left yet distortion so bad

The view presents no beauty, the disturbing sunfilter-film adds
a feeling of dust and depression to everything seen through it

I sparkled a while, but thoughts of beauty are evaporating in
the clinical atmosphere, I cannot dream here, only solution

Reading Terry Pratchett illegally in order to escape the
feeling of being me, don’t like what I turn into sitting here

I don’t like the monsters growing in my feelings, I don’t like
the way my ability to visualize is reduced, then destroyed

Came to work with a vision in my mind, enchanting
the senses, now it is gone, could not retain it within

The lack of a personal sphere, lack of space to create
a magical circle in which my thoughts can expand

Only by dreaming of one day escaping from this pigeon-
hole so-called work-station, can I struggle through the day

Sitting in a cold space, no coziness, no warmth, no
softness - stifling my spirit, burying my soul…