Thank God it’s Friday,
I will say it once again,
Yes, T.G.I.F!
Corona Viras,
What is it, flu or a cold,
Does anyone know?
It is raining now,
And some puddles grow outside,
Quicker than the grass.
As complex as simple is.
Thank God it’s Friday,
I will say it once again,
Yes, T.G.I.F!
Corona Viras,
What is it, flu or a cold,
Does anyone know?
It is raining now,
And some puddles grow outside,
Quicker than the grass.
What the barman saw,
Under the bar last evening,
Is something so gross!
Maybe, it is now,
And maybe it ain’t. We’ll see!
When we go under.
The darkness surrounds,
Closing in like a thick fog,
Chilling to the bone.
There’s a quietness,
Eerie and haunting down there,
Like a dripping tap.
And so we returned,
And pledged to not speak a word,
Of what we saw there.
To be continued…….
The cold wraps around,
Chilling bones and make them groan,
Just a few more steps.
The babies first steps,
Take time, precious time, so joyful,
Each one’s a moment.
Time just slips away,
I live the moment, in the now,
But they never stay.
A frosty morning,
I wrapped up warm,
Days dawning,
I am still yawning.
It a little fun,
It makes me think for a while,
Outside my old box.
Well the story’s told,
The film rights and books are sold,
For notes you can fold.
The day’s cold and wet,
The rain dripping through the trees,
Makes a poor shelter.
We keep it going,
Day after day they come,
I can’t stop them now!
The cold nips my heels,
I wrap up warm against it,
A daily battle.
The weather is cold,
A turn around for the cooks,
Baking apple pies!
Found an old out put,
Got me interested now,
I’ll see where it goes.
Monday looms largely,
Obscuring today with fear,
I guess it is that.
Greasy Grey explains,
To Blame the Brexiteers,
For the Brexit mess.
The cold bright and cold,
Potentially a great day.
Let’s see what it brings!
The moons bright tonight,
Full and moving clouds away,
It shining boldly.

The sky cold and clear,
But still the weather is good.
Spring is keen to come.
The bindings undone,
Pages fall on to the floor.
Covering the cracks.
The cup is half full,
That’s hopeful, yet, getting cold.
The cup’s move aside.
Dramatic white clouds
Fill the blue sky just enough.
To form great contrasts.
