Sunday, May 19, 2013

Poem For Sunday

Today

It is a fair May morning, though
you could not call it fine;
hidden by low weeping clouds,
the sun has yet to shine.

Faint mists hang in the silent trees;
no birds the silence break.
The quiet streets, the gentle mists
have lulled me wide awake.

I love the waiting stillness, when
the sun has yet to shine.
It is a fair May morning, and
I dare to call it fine.

by jrc, 5/19/2013

*

Boy, old Arthur Ritis has got ahold of my right hand and is twisting it all to heck! I was unable to resist submerging the thumb into my mug of coffee, which had cooled down to just the right warmth. Guess I'll go soak the whole hand in some warm water; that seems to help a little.

1 comment:

JD Atlanta said...

Okay, but you shouldn't soak your hand in coffee less than 4 hours before bedtime.

:)

Sorry your hand was hurting you - I hope it's better!

Love, Jed