"strimmer" poems
What is it about mornings
that I just can't stand?
When the dreaded alarm goes off
with such menace and demand
I just want to slide under my quilt
when everyone else is rising up
I only want to wilt!
The postman won't leave me alone
he pounds on my door
at unearthly hours
with parcels galore
It's the same with the phone
it won't stop ringing in my head
Why, oh why, can't they leave me in my bed?
It's just not fair
all I want is some peace
It's not much to ask
but they don't care
Now next door is cutting the grass
then he'll be using the strimmer
He's at it for hours, the noisy ***
Ding **** the door bell is going again
Oh no, it's the Avon lady
she's such a pain
"It's 9.30 you know, shouldn't you be up?"
I feel like being incredibly rude
and saying something very crude
But I'm really too tired
to bother at all
I'll leave a note hanging on my door
Do NOT disturb
Don't bother to call
I'm not really here
I'm sleeping, that's all!
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
The garden flourishes,
Fed with sunny smiles,
The flora watered only,
by the kiss of butterfly ,
The grass whines on relentlessly,moaning only, when beaten by the shears,
The strimmer strums and bumbles buzz,
For,underneath the ballustrade,
Especially positioned,
lay at peace.
The bones of mortals.
Fertilizing, the peaceful garden, hiding inside the cemetery.
Complete with pearly gates.
Blooming beautiful.
(c) Livvi
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC