Is it only Tuesday?
I thought it was later
in the week
than that.
Thursday, or Friday
at the least.
I was ready for a feast of weekend
on the horizon, or on my doorstep,
and yet… it’s just Tuesday,
raining, my spirits dampened,
my enthusiasm wet,
and, yet,
at least it’s not Monday any more.
Tuesday is the day
that Teddy Bears plan picnics,
or so I may think.
.
or
.
Tuesday is the day
Teddy Bears plan their picnics,
or so I may think.
With five syllables
and only two longer words:
Thursday Afternoon.
.
Monday and Tuesday,
Friday, Sunday, and today,
also fit the form.
.
But not Wed-nes-day,
and defo not Saturday,
or yesterday day.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #day, #Friday, #Monday, #poetry. #poem, #Saturday, #Series, #Sunday, #Thursday, #today, #Tuesday, #Wednesday, #Weekdays, #Yesterday, Haiku
Not that long ago
it was Monday, now Tuesday,
soon it’s Wednesday.
What’s with all the constant change?
Can’t the week make it’s mind up?
.
.
.
PS Wednesday can have 2 or 3 syllables –
upon this occasion I have used the 3-syllable variant. Please bear that in mind when you read the above – thank you.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Monday, #poetry. #poem, #tanka, #Tuesday, #Wednesday, #Week, @Days
This Tuesday Haiku
is not worth the newspaper
that it is wrapped in.
.
Not that it is bad,
It’s just that it is worthless,
and has no value.
.
Saying that, my friends,
I have added two verses
to alleviate.
.
And then this one line.
Tuesday came,
and Tuesday went,
I can’t remember
how it was spent;
all I know is
that days must come,
and days must go;
it is the Law of days
that makes it so.
Tuesday is just one of seven
One of seven what, I do not
know;
but, think that in the order
of the days of the week –
of which there ‘are’ seven –
Tuesday should at the front go.
And we should make Monday
the third day of the weekend;
what do you think of that,
my little friend?
Why isn’t it Thursday, today?
I thought it was Thursday,
and it’s not!
It’s Tuesday!
What is that all about?
Why isn’t it Thursday?
.
I thought it was Thursday, today;
turns out it’s not, it’s Tuesday, again.
It keeps on being Tuesday;
doesn’t keep on being Thursday, does it?
Every time I turn around, it’s Tuesday,
not Thursday:
I’m never going to get the hang of this calendar thing –
days of the week? W.E.A.K. Weak!
.
Did I mention
that it’s ‘only’ Tuesday?
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #NotThursday, #NotTuesday, #poetry. #poem, #Thursday, #Tuesday, #Weak, #Week
Tuesday’s Scone
is now stale
and beyond edibility;
it’s hardened crust
has assumed the qualities of a stone;
and once where all was soft and sweet,
there is nothing now you’d want to eat;
and when a million years have gone;
an archaeologist will find that scone
and wonder at its grisly form,
and ask, ‘Was this a foodstuff?
Was this the norm?
Did they eat them cold,
or eat them hot?’
They would hazard a guess,
but would know not.
Only here today,
tomorrow it shall be gone
and soon forgotten.
Graeme Sandford 