Category: Just for the moment

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.

The snow came today,
every type that I can tell,
and then settled down.

The fields are snow white,
the road outside with car tracks,
of a passing car.

The weather is cold,
it is chilling to the born,
and then back again.

My guitar sounds good,
until I start to play it,
then it paly along.

I like my tea black,
and my coffee too, a fact,
that I don’t forget.

Yes, extra, extra!
Read all about, that old call,
I kind of miss it.

Talking to my mum,
Getting all the latest news,
And some old repeats.

The promise of snow,
That old wish of winter time,
And now with lock down.

Warm hats and warm scarfs,
And some nice warm gloves do help,
In this winter chill.

Shopping day today,
The face masks and washing hands,
And social distance.

It is cold outside,
The air is still with a chill,
And bear trees just watch.

But those tiger trees,
They don’t stop and will not rest.
Until the hunt’s over.

Silly hippo trees,
Hog their space and like the mud,
But want more water.

The tall giraffe trees,
Sway in the breeze lazily,
And don’t mind the leaves.

Those poor fishy trees,
Like something out of water,
Swimming through the air.

She says, I’m quirky,
And wIthout mainstream thinking,
I’ll take complements.

I am just tired,
Tired of doing stuff and things,
Always in and out.

The week has ended,
I’m too exhausted to care.
Let me go to bed!

I found a Thursday,
Towards the end of a week,
But it wouldn’t speak.

It looked to Friday,
For something to say, but then,
It is a shy day.

Going out is fun,
I wish to travel further,
A nice beach somewhere.

I am okay now,
Sitting with a cup of tea,
And hearing it’s tales.

So hot and tasty,
At the start, and then it cools,
So cold and pensive.

Got some early news,
All the greens have got the blues,
And they look so cool.

And jazzy yellow,
Got it on with sexy red,
Making orange babes.

Colours keep moving,
Like great music they’re grooving,
And blending the mix.

The pallette’s dried up,
And needs a little refresh,
To the tired colours.

Those water colours,
Love to play upon the page,
And so easily.