Category: Just for the moment

Good goodle goodle,
and what a nissie non-sense,
we wimple on here.

I can’t resist it,
writing non-sense when I like,
like riding a bike.

I’ve come to a stop,
the head is shutting down fast,
I must finsh this.

I wink and I squint,
and I clench my crooked teeth,
for what I wonder.

A massive wide yawn,
pulling in the universe,
and breathing it out.

And gapping open,
the worlds and all their people,
were lost for a while.

I know I am fat,
said the raincoat to the hat,
even though so thin.

The cat sat forlorn,
thinking of its glory days,
and it wayward ways.

The flowers have gone,
empty vases standing vain,
and catching the light.

I have finished it,
I didn’t mean to but then,
something just happened.

Falling through the floor,
and knocking on the old door,
it’s really a trap.

The clocks are striking,
enough they say your time’s up.
we can wait all day.

It is looking good,
and I like the appearance.
of this new cold month.

I have lost my phone,
everything wants updating,
that is typical.

Passwords and log ins,
have were all on auto new,
then my card expired.

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.