I hear the sleepy twitterings
of small birds stirring at first light.
Insistently my alarm rings
and puts all chance of sleep to flight.
I rise and wash and shave and dress.
without a single conscious thought.
My mind rejecting wakefulness, .
A routine battle which is fought
each morning when I first arise
in the early hours of the dawn.
I knuckle my unseeing eyes
and curse the day that I was born.
The smell of coffee permeates
into my still somnolent brain
The rich aroma stimulates
and brings me back to life again.
I realise to my dismay
that I have made a grave mistake.
Today is not a working day
but sadly now I’m wide awake.
23-Feb-08
wonderful poem Ivor! I agree with Richard, while your up, write another poem for us! ! Friend Thad *10*! ! !
Ah yes! I know this scenario, all too well. But, it's not ALL bad. It's the perfect time to visit PH. Good read, I enjoyed it much. Thanks Richard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh brilliant! I guess my saying 'I get confused about whether it is a weekday because of Ez's shift patterns' somehow isn't quite so poetic. t x