Sat with beer on my tongue,
But no tum-ti-tums sing.
No rest for my brain.
No poetry to bring
Images into other minds,
Thoughts into other souls.
But the pint is tasty now!
And I shall enjoy it, until I'm old. 13th March 2014.
And another after a second pint...
At work in eleven hours
And the mere thought makes me shudder.
All the raging over hours, over pay.
The deliveries are coming,
No matter if I turn up,
And will be awaiting me to put them all away.
The figures that describe
The Perfect Partners are awaiting,
For reports and figures to tell folks how they've done.
And the orders need Eprocing/
And tweaking, and correcting.
There will be no rest until it's done!
Then, and only then,
Can I think of fun. 13th March 2014
And an old one for Julie...
Oh Hannah, there is nothing that is working.
I hold my breath and wish but hope won't grow.
All is going wrong, my life's abating.
Open up my vein and nothing flows.
All is turmoil and just more frustration.
Day and night and work and rest just blend.
But after all the working, and the waiting,
What will there be left, After the end? 3rd Nov 2004
Thank you for reading. xx
