My mum reminded me about this poem the other day. I loved it as a child, it's rhythm and the silliness of the subject!
I am sitting
In the middle
Of a rather
Muddy puddle,
With my bottom
Full of bubbles
and my rubbers
Full of Mud.
While my jacket
And my sweater
Go on slowly
Getting wetter
As I very
Slowly settle
To the Bottom
Of the Mud.
And I find that
What a person
With a puddle
Round his middle
thinks of mostly
In the muddle
Is the Muddiness of Mud.
Thinking about it in a little more in depth or maybe just through grown up eyes I can apply the theme of this poem to RA. If one sits in it and stews for too long then all you can see is...? You guessed it.
So, when I'm sitting in the middle of my rather muddy puddle I try and get out before it reaches my sweater and way before I sink to the bottom...although sometimes the mud is rather sticky and I struggle, I always seem to make it out...Lordy, I wouldn't want to have to buy another pair of wellies now would I!?
Funny how your past catches up with you isn't it?!