Sun 27/09/20

Sunday morning chores,
As the family still snores,
And I’ll bang some doors.

The book is back on,
But so much to work through now,
More material though.

Cleaning up my place,
Giving order and a clean face,
Better now for sure.

The rain down the pane,
Trickles meanderingly,
In it silent streams.

The clouds fill the sky,
And without definition,
And no sight of sun.

Sat 26/09/20 My desk revealed

The first of 9 days,
Away from work and very free,
From tiresome burdens.

The weather is wet,
A light rain and the ground’s wet,
And it does feel cold.

I picked up the files,
The papers and stuff that’s there,
Laying around me.

Can see the work top,
Dark wood and camera too,
An old AE-1.

An i-Pad lays there,
A screen and a blue notebook,
And a fountain pen.