Author: Pontvert

The train’s filling up,
so many characters here,
so many stories.

Its another night,
that’s slowly comes creeping in,
as the moon peeps out.

The train’s emptying,
one by one they each got off,
and made they way home.

My writing falters,
and then splutters to a stop,
and what a great view.

App log in details,
just morph and change by themselves,
different each time.

Misty moon tonight,
and a near full micro moon,
and seemed so distant.

There is just nothing,
that can compare to free time,
and time on your own.

Wonderful moments,
spent with a child, three years old,
but so exhausting.

Time does not slow down,
at times it seems to vanish
most times it’s the past.

Well on hectic week,
it is rest and peace I seek,
but she loves to play.

A situation,
that’s taken me by surprise,
there is no yogurt.,

The milk is all gone,
and my crunchy nut cornflakes,
are very crunchy.

There is a filler,
a gorilla, a miller,
who may just trill yer.

Ground zero again,
with everything to shoot for,
and it’s feeling good,

The plant pot’s empty,
except for last nights rainfall,
and a thirsty bird.

Such a busy day,
it has blown my mind away,
but there was success.

I’m searching my mind,
for any scrap of nonsense,
I call poetry.

I’ve written some stuff,
it rhymes at times, and that’s good,
at least I think so,

I love my coffee,
hot and steamy by my side,
and keeps love alive.

The days get longer,
and I really do love that,
heralding the spring.

Tuesday can be good,
like any other day right?
So, give it a chance.

Whatever I did,
I really don’ t recall it,
but it is Monday.

The trains were empty,
it felt good going to work,
and with so much space.

I let some things go,
but gained a lot more today,
and that’s a good trade.

Talks over coffee,
from which plans begin to grow;
with someone you know.

I’m falling behind,
and it’s a slippery path,
but skiing is fun,.

The light is left on,
and to turn it off makes sense,
and right thing to do.

Tennis and shopping,
my Saturday ritual,
and before midday.

Pages wait patiently,
for the pen to come and write,
the date and some thoughts.

There sounds all around,
a door closing, or chatter,
and silence between.