Tag Archives: #day

April The Twenty-Ninth

April The Twenty-Ninth

April The Twenty-Ninth

arrived with a plomb.

I was a lert;

others were, variously,

a droit, a fraid, or a miable.

Disregarding all that,

April The Twenty-Ninth was,

variously, wet, dry, stormy, calm,

an irritant, a balm,

hot, cold, young, old

and liable to amuse, confuse

and leave us all wondering how and why

a day like this could call itself anything other

than a day of ease…

or bother.

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Thursday’s Gone Haiku

Thursday’s Gone Haiku

It’s Friday Morning;

it’s no good mourning Thursday,

just get over it.

Daybreak

Daybreak

How the day will dawn

is something that I know

not. I shall have to wait and see

what the future brings for me.

The Day, Today.

The Day, Today.

The radio is talking

to itself;

the outside world seems to be on ‘mute’;

I pass from one realm to another.

A bird calls, is answered, responds accordingly.

Clouds scud across the sky, lazily following their heart’s desires.

The wind has gone AWOL;

but, will be back when its batteries are recharged.

The sun shines down weakly upon those seeking warmth – but, they remain chilled, only their minds are warmed.

I pass amongst the inhabitants of the Earth

and watch as they process their lives

in many valid ways.

”Hey! Hey! Hey! Where’s my Saturday Rhyme?”

Where is my Saturday rhyme?

It’s been stolen, that’s a…

criminal act;

but, I must use tic-tac-toe

and be subtle;

flying off the handle

never got things done.

An Acrostic Sunday

An Acrostic Sunday

Sunday starts with an ‘S’ and ends with a ‘Why?’
Until it’s over, the day is full of content.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; so there.
Don’t think that this is going to make sense, scents, or cents.
Actually, I have only the highest regard for Sundays
Yesterday wasn’t Sunday: Today is! 

When am I (and where?)?


Is is Wednesday?

Is it Thursday?

Is it still Tuesday?
Well, it all depends

Upon where in the world you are

Or I am.
You might be on the previous day

Or the next

Or the same

But, teetering upon the brink of changing the date upon the calendar.

As might I.

If you are in my time zone

You might not be in my rhyme zone

To steal a moment

You could be in a crime zone

Or a lemon and lime zone

If that’s how Cockneys might describe it.
All I am saying is

That wherever you are

And whenever you are

Please spare a second to think of those that are currently languishing in the past

And also those that are ploughing their furrows in the future.

Just a moment though;

You wouldn’t want to waste your rhyme

Contemplating just any old miment in time.