Sunday Morning 3AM
Sunday Morning, 3am,
I’ve checked my calendar,
checked my watch,
checked my bottle
of twelve-year Scotch –
or maybe half full, to you,
depending on your point of view.
In the quiet of a Sunday morning
Silently, I set the fire aglow;
catch up on the washing-up;
fetch a brew for my beloved
(who still sleeps);
and pander to the dogs’ needs
(Rosie the cat has already had her ears scratched).
The chill air gains a hint of warmth,
and all seems calm.
Soon, there are walks to be taken,
and pottering to be done;
but, that is soon,
and for this minute
I breathe in
and my heart is content.
In the Garden
On any given Sunday
(for they are truly ‘given’)
you can find a person
(not a parson – they will be in a church)
in the garden;
or, if they are not there,
then they shall be found somewhere else.
I can say no more than this,
as even saying this
has stretched my resources
to near breaking.
PS this is not a poem
(even if it looks like one).
“It’s Sunday, Silly!”
Okay, how do you get to be silly on a Sunday?
It’s not normally thought of as a ‘Funday’;
doesn’t measure up as a ‘Punday’;
hasn’t the uniqueness to be a ‘Oneday’;
and a ‘Sun’ day? Really? It so often rains;
A ‘Bunday?’ Hardly likely;
or a ‘Doneday?’ Well, it is at the end.
How about a ‘Gunday?’ No, that’s not going to happen, is it?
A ‘Hunday?’ Not, a Germanic one;
but a pet-name for your partner one?
Okay, a Nunday; a Runday, or a Tunday?
Can’t say that they are likely to catch on;
An ‘Unday’ – a lot of days are already a bit like that.
No, sorry, we are going to have to stick with ‘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!
05:48am – 11-10-2015
I woke up at 05:48
In a bit of a state
I thought I was late
But, it was Sunday
So, I forestalled on the panic
The being quite manic
And went back to bed
With an ache in my head
And tried to go back to sleep…
Fat chance of that!
Today, I was up before the alarm
Had even thought about waking the farm
Hi Ho! Off to work I go.
PS I managed to inflict an accidental arm to the jaw of my beloved in the process of returning to mon lit – apologies here go to that ‘special’ lady. Sorry x
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.
Posted in Haiku, Morning, poem, Poetry, Sunday, writers block
Tagged #morning, #Sunday, #writersblock, Haiku, Poem, Poetry