"I am the woman who lives in a cave

on the beach, out of reach.

I didn’t always live in a cave

I had a home, was not alone.

I don’t wear shoes

no blue suede blues

seaweedy hair

but I don’t care

my food is free

and good for me

and as I sit

the water drips

the rocks are black

against my back

the roof is high

the seagulls fly

and I am free

no boss for me

so I will stay

in my rocky bay

no cathedral’s as grand

as my cave soft with sand."

 

"I am the woman who lives in a tree.

A home made of twigs makes perfect digs.

The birds all sing at roost or wing

each year in spring decorators come in

a fine new green the best I’ve seen

and blossom too from May to June

the view is fine and it’s all mine

lots of fresh air wind in my hair.

In my dear sweet beautiful tree."

 

"I am the woman who lives in the rock.

A circle of stones make up my home.

I dance and hum I sway my bum

round my rock I go, jump high crouch low

my hair flies free, a chant for me

so solid we’ll be for eternity.

My darling rock and me."

 

"I am the woman who lives in the well so deep.

Moss glistens and gleams

in the moonbeams

in my well so deep.

The bats hang down like damsons brown

in my well so deep.

With slippery stones and old men’s bones

in my well so deep.

Reflecting moon lights up the gloom

in my well so deep.

I slither and swim and I never weep

in my sparkling well so deep.

My hair in fronds swirls round the pond

and bubbles blow as down I go.

They burst and pop

I’ll never stop.

My home so wet

the best I’ll get."

 

　

image:Helen Stringer