she lied to her total being
it was okay to be horizontal
weekends' seem to come around all too soon
such words of today
when the moon waits behind grey clouds
& daylight saving is few hours away
she hates putting the clocks back
early dark dark morning
dark dark dark evenings
winter is all too loud
takes the worm to lack the day
on a moment of spiral form
grizzles of imperfect sighs
rustle of newspaper
magazines thrown to the coffee table
and those ingrained stains from sipped mugs
too hot for the mind
where is the remote for the tv
and a nice pair of warm socks
drops a few degrees in painful cry
of why oh why
it must be saturday
for the quiet is killing us all
with old movies, old old news
and random bits of poetic kindness
Comments
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This is all so true.
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enjoyed this so much.
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I really love this.
I don't even want to comment. I just want to read it again and again.
Next time with a puffy tuba setting a slow pace with short bass bubbles.
If I was going to comment I'd cite lines 13-17 as the fulcrum in a perfectly balanced poem.
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i can relate....yes, very much....sighs
few write the book of days like you, gilly - a true storyteller you are.
so enjoyed this
~ Nicolette
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Sounds like a typical Sunday for me... lol. You have such a way with putting across an emotion, hon. I'm with mary, I'd know your writing anywhere.
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the settee died?!
I would mourn, too
I did ...sigh
new one is good
reclines an'all
but the old one ...oh well
breathe
watch some good telly
and know i'll be home in 3 days
love you -
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the sofa didn't die, i was just feeling uggghhhh - didn't get the job at Asda..!! pooh!! and was having a blah blah blah moment. but okay now
and i hope your trip was a grand time xxxx
missing you xxx
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i would recognize your poetic voice anywhere.. you have such a unique storytelling style--- wonderful stuff
m
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thankie ma'am
xxx
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It is such a day hear today- cold, wet and uninviting.
Me Lady and I took solace at the library where, from the windows around 2:30, we saw the street lights come on because the rain clouds were so dark!
In my childhood days like this are what I always imagined what the British Isles were like,
You've given me chills in confirming it with this poem!
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i'm glad it caught your mind Gary.. many thanks for your lovely words xx
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The nice warm socks made me want to curl up on the couch and just lounge the day away. I have a lovely, thick book to read and nothing that needs to be accomplished except clearing away dirty dishes and really, as soon as I do them, there'll be more in their place - it's a vicious cycle that never ends, you know. 
It's cold here, and getting colder. It tends to make us want to curl into ourselves for a season of contemplation until winter is well out the door and spring is on its way again. I love old, comfortable sweaters and blankets to swirl around me as I watch a good old movie on the tv, but would rather be in the sun and warm again. As always, a worthy pen is held by your hand, spilling droplets of ink across our eyelids, Gill.
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cant beat some warm socks and blankets.. i love that idea.. yes xxx
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& daylight saving is few hours away
she hates putting the clocks back
early dark dark morning
dark dark dark evenings
I love those lines.. I love the way they're written and the emotion they bring and the great thoughts. Nice job. -
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thank you so much xx
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Words born from the mind of a genius. You are so clever and poetic. This is truly one of your best, Gil. I read it twice and carry it with me as I go about the day.
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ahhh thank you so much michael... for your kindness and support too.. xx
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Great
I stumbled on this during a random search. My take on it, is that you are the earlybird, spinning off of the sofa in a spiral motion, to get the worm. If I missed it, that's OK, I still enjoyed reading it.
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glad you stumbled on by xx
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Well I should remember as your days grow shorter ours grow longer, perhaps the plan is to emigrate for at least 6mths of the year (we need good nurses and medical ppl downunder) and then go back in time for the good days and weekends...it's a plan? C
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yes, your summer comes around and our winter hits the ground running... !!! lololol
thanks Chez...
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Oh god. The rings on the coffee table. Perfect metaphor fo rthe poem Gill. Makes one feel so trapped, all of it. Does me anyway, or maybe I brought my own baggage with me.
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you can bring your baggage anytime hun!! unpack it all soon... shiny socks an all
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