The clock on my tablet has struck twelve
And I wonder what it is I can easily delve
Into on a night as wondrous as this one is
Back home the witching hour has come
And I am sixty-seven and feeling calm
Here in the queen’s realm I still am sixty-six
I watch the cloudy skies for a sign, any sign
Dawn is a reticent traveller and by design
In the home country we’d be up and about
What a lark when finally it’s daybreak here
And there’s none of the fabled English bird songs
To serenade my day, just the sulky silence and drizzle
Who needs contrivance when family is here and warm?
My day is made when finally at table we sit and are merry
Counting my blessings and dreaming of something spectacular.
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
The clock on my tablet has struck twelve
And I wonder what it is I can easily delve
Into on a night as wondrous as this one is
Back home the witching hour has come
And I am sixty-seven and feeling calm
Here in the queen’s realm I still am sixty-six
I watch the cloudy skies for a sign, any sign
Dawn is a reticent traveller and by design
In the home country we’d be up and about
What a lark when finally it’s daybreak here
And there’s none of the fabled English bird songs
To serenade my day, just the sulky silence and drizzle
Who needs contrivance when family is here and warm?
My day is made when finally at table we sit and are merry
Counting my blessings and dreaming of something spectacular.
I turned 67 on 30 September. At midnight Zimbabwe time it was still 29th September in the UK. So I couldn't but help reflect upon this phenomenon, having just arrived in Bromsgrove to visit my daughter and her family.
