Ambling slowly on the Web,
Through the wee small hours,
Knowing I should go to bed,
Amidst the snow and showers.
Trawling slowly from site to site,
Reading what take’s my fancy,
Emails from strangers yet,
With names like Flo and Nancy.
Why do we get all these emails,
From those not known to us?
With Virus threats which are not real,
Or offers to take our fancy.
Searching again from site to site,
Why do I do it so?
The time does pass, less time to sleep,
Surely to bed I must go?
I write these poems of what I do,
How I feel, and how I live,
So others can relate to me,
And to all in my life, which I did.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 19 March 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem