Month: January 2021

Twelve o’clock midnight,
when the bewitching hour starts,
and most are in bed.

One o’clock is fine,
for getting things done later,
in the quiter times.

Two o’clock beware,
it’s very late, go to be bed,
and get some sleep now.

Three o’clock is bad,
the clock ticks and that is all,
Awake is not good.

Four o’clock is dark,
just before the dawn so dark,
Just moon and stars seen.

Five o’clock is dawn
The light appears, like new hope,
on the horizon.

Six o’clock some wake,
make their coffee go to work,
others just sleep on.

Seven o’clock knock,
time for me to get up now,
so I am ready.

Eight o’clock it starts,
the new day and working life,
or feeding the kids.

Nine o’clock meeting,
the usual stuff and planning,
for the week ahead.

Ten o’clock emails,
coming thick and thin they do,
copied in mostly.

Eleven o’clock,
is knuckle down time for me,
and getting things done.

Twelve o’clock slips in,
too busy to stop and eat,
so I just work through.

Winter’s the coolest.
season to be, even cold,
and best spent inside.

Spring’s blooming great,
the trees light green with new leaves,
and flowers spring up.

Summer lasts longest,
the nights are short and days long,
and best spent outside.

Autumn’s colourful,
with fruits, berries, falling leaves,
and playing conkers.

They all change around,
With a true sense of their own,
that makes them special.

Monday is moan day,
the start of a week of work,
and no more weekend,

Tuesday is blues day,
Monday didn’t dissapoint,
it was a crap day.

Wednesday is woes day,
and the middle of the week,
you wake up with eek!

Thursday is worst day,
looking forward to Friday,
you find it’s this one.

Friday is cry day,
and you have not finished,
so you’re working late.

Saturday can stink,
maybe work or things to do,
it’s not a rest day.

Sunday a fun day?
hmmm, I wionder about fun,
but maybe some sun.

I hope you’ve had fun,
with days, Monday to Sunday,
then it starts again.

January’s gone,
just one day left to stand out,
as a winter month.

Feb’s a chilly one,
she breezes in, cold and sharp,
and freezes with a look.

March is a cute one,
plays it both ways, hot and cold,
yes, of course, pisces.

April’s a darling,
fresh and in your face with blooms,
and chilly breezes.

May’s a great month,
and will always bless your home,
with a loving warmth.

June’s a flighty one,
‘look at me and arn’t I’m fine’,
and a little hot.

July’s a steady one,
likes to tell it as it is,
so warm and caring.

August storm about,
hot with fits and shouts and tears,
great to spend time with.

Sep is a good guy,
and serves up some lovely days,
with bouquets and fruit.

Octa doesn’t know,
which way he should turn to next,
and will surprize you.

Nov is so painful,
nags and tries to tell you lies,
that summer’s not gone.

Dec promises much,
parties and good times and gifts,
sometimes it fall short.

Well the day when well,
back to back meetings as well,
I go through them well.

It is Friday night,
the corner lamp with its light,
and shadows that play.

My music’s silent,
waiting for the sounds again,
trapped on my old phone.

Please release them all,
Let them go and let be free,
to reach my hearing.

The lamp light is strange,
and things move in the shadows,
and then disappear.

I shuffle my feet,
as if to scare it away,
whatever it is.

Tiredness storks me,
with each wink it closes in,
looking to seize me.

An exhausting day,
and there lifeless I just lay,
not moving at all.

Maybe it wasn’t,
as bad as I make it seem,
but here is the rub.

They say there’ll be snow,
soon but they do not know when,
this white stuff shall fall.

One more day to go,
until the week ends and then,
I’ll take it easy.

My mind is a blank,
it has been wiped very clean,
by job stress and crap.

A little remains,
enough for a few Haiku,
a line at a time.

The season is cold,
the weather’s variable,
cold and very cold.

I win and I loose,
the spin of the wheel’s a thrill,
that I can resist.

The thoughts flood my mind,
like cold porridge or treacle,
moving slowing through.

Porridge and treacle,
now that’s a mix for thinking,
but not if it’s cold.

The rain keeps falling,
cold and wet, it is falling,
from cold cloudy skies.

Making decisions,
on job ops and mortgages,
so many choices.

It is just Tuesday,
bins go out and I’m shattered,
with so much to do.

I think of times gone,
all I’ve been through and seen,
places I’ve lived in.

I’ve loved those places,
far away and distant now,
but close in my heart.

A stupid meeting,
requirements and nonsense,
do they understand?

Back in the lime light,
it gives out a strange green glow,
makes me look sickly.

I’m only joking,
yes I am having a laugh,
or something like that.

The things on my mind,
that make it go whirling round,
and going nowhere.

I guess that’s worry,
anxiety, maybe stress,
that make one sleep less.

I sleep very well,
I learnt it through extreme times,
and often outside.