Cough #poetry

I seem to be getting a cough,

A tickle, a pain in my neck,

I can’t recall where it may have come from,

But it’s here, oh dear holy heck.

Dee-sem-brrrr #poetry

It’s not the day for wearing shorts,

Of that I’m really sure,

My legs and hands are cold as ice,

To home I’ll head for sure.

 

The fire’s on, the curtains closed,

And wrapped up do I sit,

For December has brought winter here,

And I’ve had enough of it.

In Darkness

It’s been said that my sleep is “dark” because my eyes are shut, and of course that is a great point. But then humour is often a pill that cures all…

…There’s more to it though.

Darkness isn’t a lack of light, it’s a space void of life, air, hope and dreams. You can exist there, but it’s no way to live.

I dread sleep because I enter this void; moreover though, I dread waking and still being stuck within it. Escape is possible, so they tell me. Yet I simply don’t see how. There’s no map to the maze and the fact remains that, well it remains factual.

So in darkness we sit and idly chat…