My Upside Down Smile


My smile is upside down at the moment. Time with flesh and Cloudy blood friends flew by faster than the farts from Le Pétomane’s arse cheeks. However, I met a new girl at the weekend. Stefania is her name. At least, that’s the name I christened her after watching a shooting star grace the heavens above ‘The Manor Hall’ on that Saturday.

The Lords and Ladies gathering was in full swing at the beautiful house in the Cotswolds. Overwhelmed by the experience of being in the company of such lovely people, I stole myself away for a few minutes to enjoy a single cigarette – outside on the patio.

As I sat there, alone, watching shadows dancing at the windows, I was totally in awe of the genuine friendships that had bonded through an invisible power. It was at that moment I heard ghostly voices whisper, ”Will you come and play in the land of make-believe.” I followed.

Of course, I saw dragons, but my dragons don’t scare, they don’t spit fire mine play the bass guitar and twelve strings – others play harmonica’s – in perfect tune I might add. Oh, and one even orates like a ‘cool’ Thespian at the globe. Another looks the spit of a caricature I once saw painted in the swirls of a cloud. Imagine that?

I’ll get to the angels and fairies in a minute, but before I do, I need to mention about the little boy I saw with grazed knees who was sporting a beard. It was his short pants you see – no protection for the knee-knobs. In his day, he had to wear the hand-me-downs – even though he’d turned thirteen.

Indiana Jones, busy at the sink, fought on the ever-increasing mountain of dirty dinner plates. Hearing a twig snap behind him, he whipped out a nifty electronic device. An eccentric Ogre had appeared with an empty bottle of Shiraz, and the odd bod began attacking, Indiana. The Matriarch Angel arrived just in time, ( as they do ) in a flourish of blue feathers she choked the wackadoo Ogre into slumber on a well-cushioned sofa.

The blue feathered angel proceeded to empty multi-coloured potions of sinister-looking brews into goblets of gold. They were consumed forthwith by all and sundry and especially, Matilda of Oz, who by now was hopping a merry jig around a room full of noisy Kookaburras, dressed in the same clothing as the Matriarch Angel.
( I do believe they’d been nesting in her bosom.)

Meanwhile, a fairy dressed in a top hat and a silver-topped cane sparkled into the room. She went across to the still sleepy-eyed Ogre on the couch waving her dazzling wand in his direction. The Ogre briefly opened his eyes and blinked twice before realising his literary sense was doomed seeing the near-naked fairy and collapsed back into the land of nod.

The next fairy to appear was fully clothed, to everyone’s joy, though was prone to using the ‘fuck’ word, or should that be the ‘ f ‘ word. No matter, it’s beyond the water-shed. She sported lovely heart glittery shaped shades. ( Phew!! Try saying that when you’ve been on the above sinister brew. )

The tiniest fairy of them all popped her head out of the water-shed door knitting socks. She then swayed her rainbow gloved finger in the direction of the cursing fairy. Still muttering Irish obscenities under her breath, the cussing hobgoblin, who at that time had donned a sparkly pinny, began to sauté a mountain of best sirloin steaks. The aroma of which delighted the merry throng.

Stefania’s voice crackled through the humdrum on my friendless drive home. She spoke to me from her mapped out screen – the squiggles of roads soon had morphed into a beautiful face as clear as the brightest star in the heavens above.
”Well – I’ve guided you home. Can you do something for me?”
”Err! but you’re my SatNav; you’re not supposed to ask favours.”
”You mean you didn’t wish upon a star the other night?”
”Yes, but how did you know that?”
”Well, you believe in dragons, don’t you?”
”Okay, you got me there. What do you want.”
”Sing to me. Let it turn your smile the right way round.”
”Okay. I guess that could work. Here we go.”

Your lipstick stays, on the front lobe of my left side brain.
I knew I wouldn’t forget you.
And so I went and let you blow my mind.

Your sweet moonbeam
The smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided; your the one I had decided who’s one of my kind.
Hey soul sister…

Published by Baz Baron

Naturally I'm a lovely person to know, but as D'Arcy says 'My good opinion once lost is lost forever.'

I love comments :-)

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