Alas night brings forth the dawn
The daylight shouts that tis morn
And aching limbs steal forth from bed
First tiresome bod then aching head
All hell screams out tis time to labour
Breakfast first for palette savour
A cuppa tea downs breakfast fast
As time for work looms forth alas
As body weary locks the door
Bleary eyed and vision poor
Transport awaits to take you there
Where labour waits without a care
Time tells how body weary gets
As work takes toll and muscle sets
Day is done and time has past
Tis time to head for home at last
And so the cycle starts again
Can body ever cease from pain
As retirement looms ahead
Brings mornings lying in my bed
Reflecting now on times of past
And body lays released at last
From pain that seemed to never end
Time to oneself can recommend
Now labour done in its own hour
As strength permits with muscle power
Time left to do what time permits
The things before this body quits
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The feel of this verse brings the reader through with a good flow of energy from working life until retirement. It comes to everyone sooner or later Don and your warm poem voices this well....10 and seasonal greetings from Fay.