Monday stretches on,
many hours of the day left,
but the morn… passes.
By the Book (sic)
By the Book (sic)
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Tag Archives: #morning
Just another Monday morning Haiku (as if there weren’t enough of them in the literary world already)
Monday Morn Haiku
Monday Morn is born
from the last remainderings
of a Sunday night.
Four o’clock a.m. Haiku
It is not quite four –
it will be, in a minute –
so, time for a nap?
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #EarlyPoetry, #morning, #NighttimePoetry, #poetry. #poem, #Yawn, Haiku
Saturday Morning
It’s Saturday
morning;
and if I don’t get a shift on
I shall be looking at Saturday
afternoon
from a close-to perspective.
Hence these few words
worth a couple of pence –
if that –
and little in the way of wisdom.
.
Well, it is Saturday
morning…
but only just.
On a Saturday Morning
People walking,
people cycling,
people walking dogs –
no dogs cycling;
people driving,
delivering, thriving
businesses;
people taking the air
here, there, everywhere;
it’s cool, it’s cold,
some young, some old
some in between –
if you know what I mean;
breeze is fresh upon my face,
I have to set an eager pace,
to warm my soul,
keep my body whole.
“Is it still morning?”
“Is it still morning?”
“Is it still morning?”
I ask myself;
I look at the shelf
to see the clock;
but, the clock’s not there,
and neither’s the shelf!
“Oh,no!” I cry;
then I cry
tears of sorrow
no clock today
it was there yesterday
will it be back tomorrow?
Then I cry
tears of joy;
I remember,
that a friend did borrow
that clock of mine
to tell the time
and help this rhyme
be particularly fine.
But, as to the whereabouts of the shelf…?
I woke up this morning…
I woke up this morning
Da dada da da!
And poured the milk
Da dada da da!
Of human kindness
Da dada da da!
Upon my breakfast cereal killer
Da dada da da!
He wasn’t that pleased
Da dada da da!
With milk poured on his head
Da dada da da
He made me a promise
Da dada da da!
That I’d soon be dead
Da dada da da!
So, all in all, not the best start to the day.
Stating the blooming obvious on a Sunday (#Haiku)
Stating the blooming obvious on a Sunday.
As it’s a Sunday
I have a little write time…
But, nothing happens.
No words flow at all;
And thoughts are far from working;
This means nothing writ.
So my apologies
For this blank piece of paper;
Better luck next time.
Moth(er!)
Not thith exact moth
Be he moth
Or be he myth
There’th not another moth
Ath big ath thith!
PEth – Rothie the Cat brought in a moth through the window thith morning and had great delight in chathing it around the bathroom while I got ready for work. Before I could rethcue it, Rothie took it back out of the window. That’th nature.
PPEth – it wathn’t a huge moth (there are bigger) but what’th a potht without a bit of exaggeration.
G:)
Graeme Sandford 