Nana Ollerenshaw: The Horizontal Woman

The Horizontal Woman

Peacock bright

in spinnaker smock

she looms, higher than on feet

she can not use,

a wider bed installed

to stop her frequent heavy falls.

Tiny helpless hands

flutter at the fancy 3D cards

she loves to make,

another one of her escapes.

“Visitors” are staff

she’s set herself to know

or volunteers, drawn in by what they find,

pain put aside,

the wit they hadn’t guessed.

Serious at shopping,

she keeps her orgies secret

if drawers provide the space

to hide excess: oranges, apples, grapes and berries,

king chocolate blocks, fudge and cakes, cream biscuits,

bars and candy, recipes with pictures,

reams of sticker packs

to make her cards, all manna

hanging from her handlebars.

The hooded eyes, impassive face, the tinted

scruff of hair, sheer size

belie the unexpected: worldly, travelled, opera lover

football fan and gambler

wise, sensible and well clued

and rabid devotee of food!

Nana Ollerenshaw