PJ Thomas moved to Peterborough to attend Trent University where she became Editor-in-Chief of their newspaper. Working successfully in news and arts administration, Ms. Thomas became seriously mentally ill at 30. She has since published 2 comedic novels about mental health to critical acclaim. PAJE Press is publishing her first book of poetry, Undertow, in September 2020.
Just one really good afternoon with you was all it took to knock the solid rock loose from my blockhead. I remember love now, though I had almost forgotten it in this year of tragic loss and fear. I was alone in my room with no one to hear me. You brought me near enough to the river to sense its silent joy.
You and the water are always there shining for me. She touching me gently with sweet caresses of an embrace. It’s here I see your face breaking through the water’s surface.
At the height of summer when the water doesn’t run cold and cicadas and crickets rule the evenings I think of sandpipers on beaches loudly ringing their whistled calls. We are all in symphony, running in tandem, all cause-and-effect with the ebb and flow of our energies wrought by sunlight.
What will you sell me for my pockets full of dust and ashes? A ride on your captured elephant? Two bales of hay? The loaves and the fishes? Me, who asked you into my heart to dwell in an acre of sand.
On deck will I dine tonight eating limes and salt pork from a barrel. I must always remember that we are no longer on the S.S. Britannia, but moving now by wind, in a wooden boat on freshwater.
Papyrus cannot hold the lifeblood of words spilled from even a half-full glass; the empty half housing dreams unmanifest, ideas yet to be considered, and races not yet run. I will take the ink blotter to the sticky, red page, mop up the edits off the floor and combine these sanguine liquids with Saturnian whimsies and a bottle of wry whiskey.
High sunbeams shine on nearly still water. They know how to dance in their own noontime light. August graces bring radiance to substance as the peach glows rosy with the brightness of its skin. Grapevines entwine weaving their leaves and fruit. Blueberry wine will flow through this shallow valley