Eleven!!

Well I have danced my heart out yet again, and spent the rest of the evening shuffling around my home at a snails pace. I didn't even want to shuffle to the loo, I ached so much but my bladder did insist and I finally made it down the stairs.
But I really, really didn't want to climb them again.
The struggles I put myself through, and the aches I live with.
Could have been something to do with the 10 hour day at work, and the several hundred cases of water I ended lugging from A to B because someone borrowed the delivery trolley and had forgotten to put it back in a place where others may find and use it.
I will say no more about this, but my back is still protesting at the abuse it was put through with the occasional twinge screaming at me.
(And I do admit several hundred is a slight exaggeration, but not to my muscles).
The sad shame is, there is no bollywood next Monday, and I don't know what I will do with myself.
Write? As I haven't penned a story in a while, crochet? As I do have to think of something for the soon arriving Mothers day. Or dreaming? Which is a favourite pastime of mine, but one in which I cannot prove it has any benefit as I have nothing physical to show from it except a happy warm glow in my soul.
Dreaming does include slumber, and I am very tired. Earlies are not my best time of day, and going to bed at 8 always seems a little wrong.
I am so glad this thing has a spell check. The words I have spent typing tonight bare little resemblance to what I intended, and without it, only gobbledygook would have prevailed.
So I shall finish with today's poem, and bid you all a good night.

Tired
An ache in my bone lingers,
As a yawn distorts my face.
My limbs are heavy as lead.
As I sit, slumped, in this space.
My brain is turning to mush,
As my eyes struggle to see.
I want to wrap the sun around my shoulders
Like a comfortable and warm blanket,
And then, I can finally sleep.     18th March 2014

Thank you for reading. xx

Ouch!

Oh, don't trap your finger in the door.
Or you'll be swearing,
And rolling on the floor.
As you cradle your right hand,
And it throbs like a demented brass band.
Oh, don't trap your finger in the door!     17th March 2014

Clouds

Undulating clouds crash against a distant shore.
They bubble and roll against the rocks of the earth
And roar to the beach of the horizon.
Where the edge of the land is only a thin strip of light in the darkening sky.
And the clouded waves bush pink, rose and orange
As if they realise they are being watched
By the small creatures that scuttle fare below.
Who are often caught up in the mundanity of their small lives.
And sometimes forget to wonder at the magnificence of the sky.    16th March 2014

Warmth of the Sun

Still.
I am still.
Sat in a pool of golden splendour
Upon the heat soaked carpet.
Baking gently, in the warmth of the sun.
As the viscous, golden, heavy light
Caresses my Winter-darkened soul.
Stains it with the promise of Spring.
From black-brown to red,
Through amber, to gold,
As rich, and as welcoming as honey tinged ale
I can taste on my tongue.
And I yawn.
I stretch; And I fall.
Fall forward into mindfulness.
In the warmth of the sun.   15th March 2014

A Reason...

Work, and sleep.
Sleep and work.
All time is consumed by,
All space is enveloped by
Work, and sleep
Punctuates each interval.
As the comma pauses a sentence.
But there is no end.
No full stop to the endless
Water wheel, of
Work, and sleep.
Sleep and work.
With only seven minutes of snooze in which to dream...    15th March 2014

OK, those of you who are reading will realise I have sort of missed a day. But did you not get two for one on Thursday? And an old one of top of that?
So stop complaining. I still intend to finish this 40 days of poems, so this is yesterdays effort even though I have only just wrote it, and I will post one for today, later. When my mind has began to melt with the pure joy of an extra day off and begins to work again.
So there might be a half decent one coming your way, although I cannot promise anything.
And anyway, this is my challenge, with my ever changing rules.
It was so much easier on paper, when I could write several in one prose filled moment to cover the next few days.
Why do I do these things to myself....
Thank you for reading. xx

Two plus one =

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

Fog

Opaque rolling fog creeps in.
It covers the hills,
Fills the vales.
Smothers the buildings
And muffles the wails
Until only still silence prevails.
Then the sun burns it away,
And it becomes another normal, glorious day!   12th March 2014