Morning crept through
curtains partly drawn
Grey and woolly,
Damp of thought
No urge to rise
To greet a day
that surely would
come to naught
Not first light though
For early hours
Had seen much brighter
With Whispered words
A softly closing door
The cabmans charge
Delivered from afar
Remembered in the afterwards of sleep
Now urgency
The need to rise
and greet
the sullen skies
For time has ticked
the Computer waits
For no man, and everyman
For the working day begins
A generic Monday š Actually, I’m usually very smart out of the starting blocks whatever the weather but I’ll admit to feeling somewhat down this autumn as we go through the schools proces for our Son.
I really enjoyed your poem, Martin. It really conveys the feelings that come with the photo. I hadn’t previously read any of your poetry. Very nice! š Debra
My wife leaves for work sometimes before I lift my weary bones… One of the benefits of working from home – I don’t have to commute. But tomorrow, I have to go to St.Albans, so an early start for me š
The whispered words in the poem are those of a neighbor across the road who often comes home by taxi in the small hours of the morning. I’m sometimes awake to see the headlights relecting on the wall and hear the cab. Though, as it’s a poem, the reader should make of it what they wish š
Thanks, Martin. I agree that we get more out of reading poetry when we bring our imagination to it. I just wondered if your wife (or son) had to venture out on such a soggy day while you stay snuggled under the covers. š
NP Nancy – the Lad is usually the last one up. I’m already at work half-an-hour before he leaves for school š But my Good Lady has to venture out between 07:00 and 07:30 to get to work for 09:00 (I actually start at 08:00).
Working from home has its perks! Safe travels to St. Albans tomorrow.
I’ll enjoy the day out – meet my colleagues who I don’t see very often and (if I take my camera as well as the laptop) possibly get some photos of the Pink & Purple Uno buses š
Wow, Martin…
it almost seems… unfair to follow such a nice piece with… such a nice piece!
Beautiful… almost the kind of thing you just want to appreciate in silence (which is causing words to fail me even worse here, today).
š
Thanks Bob – I’ve had a busy three weeks chasing round schools inpreparation for my son moving to secondary school next year and I was really depressed near the end of last week. This sudden attack of poetry seems to have come out of that š
Thanks very much Arindam – I can go weeks, sometimes months, without a word of poetry coming to me and then… well there you go – 2 in 2 days. I think it was the pressure of the last few weeks coming out.
Images from Finchley 
Nice description. Some days are like that! š
Thank you – the urge to stay in bed is great when it’s grey outside š
oh what a foggy morning …. no wonder you wanted to stay in bed!
A generic Monday š Actually, I’m usually very smart out of the starting blocks whatever the weather but I’ll admit to feeling somewhat down this autumn as we go through the schools proces for our Son.
Nice work on the poem Martin. I’ll show Michelle the photo as I’m sure it’ll bring back memories of her trip abroad he he he š
Thanks Tony – Don’t you go depressing your little Lady now š
I really enjoyed your poem, Martin. It really conveys the feelings that come with the photo. I hadn’t previously read any of your poetry. Very nice! š Debra
Thanks Debra – I would like to write more but it doesn’t always flow. There are a few more poems in the archives š
Loved the poem . . . and the photo captures the imagery.
Did someone leave, with whispered words, while you remained abed?
My wife leaves for work sometimes before I lift my weary bones… One of the benefits of working from home – I don’t have to commute. But tomorrow, I have to go to St.Albans, so an early start for me š
The whispered words in the poem are those of a neighbor across the road who often comes home by taxi in the small hours of the morning. I’m sometimes awake to see the headlights relecting on the wall and hear the cab. Though, as it’s a poem, the reader should make of it what they wish š
Thanks, Martin. I agree that we get more out of reading poetry when we bring our imagination to it. I just wondered if your wife (or son) had to venture out on such a soggy day while you stay snuggled under the covers. š
NP Nancy – the Lad is usually the last one up. I’m already at work half-an-hour before he leaves for school š But my Good Lady has to venture out between 07:00 and 07:30 to get to work for 09:00 (I actually start at 08:00).
Working from home has its perks! Safe travels to St. Albans tomorrow.
I’ll enjoy the day out – meet my colleagues who I don’t see very often and (if I take my camera as well as the laptop) possibly get some photos of the Pink & Purple Uno buses š
Wow, Martin…
it almost seems… unfair to follow such a nice piece with… such a nice piece!
Beautiful… almost the kind of thing you just want to appreciate in silence (which is causing words to fail me even worse here, today).
š
Thanks Bob – I’ve had a busy three weeks chasing round schools inpreparation for my son moving to secondary school next year and I was really depressed near the end of last week. This sudden attack of poetry seems to have come out of that š
Awesome poem. Very relatable.
Thanks Rommel – Grey days are the same for all of us I expect š
That blissful early morning cone of silence, even if it is a Monday! Yu have created such a wonderful rhythm of words with atmosphere here Martin!
(Sympathies on the school issue, grrr . . . but I am sure your Alasdair will be fine!)
Thanks Patti, and Thanks for the sympathy too š
WOW! One more beautifully written poem from you. You are a poet, Sir. š Loved these words and the picture at the end. Great stuff.
Thanks very much Arindam – I can go weeks, sometimes months, without a word of poetry coming to me and then… well there you go – 2 in 2 days. I think it was the pressure of the last few weeks coming out.
I wish and hope it will continue for few more week. At least it will give birth to few more beautiful poems like these. š