Ah, the joys commuting I’d forgotten – like, the blaring alarm-clock you allow to go off twice; the dark when you first open the drapes, with shivering shoulders; the much needed cups of coffee, one after another, as you traipse round a very quiet house, trying to recall whatever it is that you forgot to get ready, the night before, when you went to bed early, so as to wake feeling bright, as it slowly gets light, while you still feel like your head is elsewhere.
Yet, one cannot worry about the things forgotten, as the time moves on and there’s a train to catch; so, you dress for the weather and make a dash for the door, being aware as you walk, of the puddles on the floor and, you can’t help but smile as you think of the forecast just a short while ago – “It’ll be cloudy, with light showers ahead.”
And, as the rain falls, a days worth in five minutes, you relish the idea of having stayed in bed…
It is then, that you try to cross the road and, by the time you have, the train sought has come and gone: and, that is just, the start of the day…
My Favourite Toy
When I was small
my bestest toy
was a brand new cardboard box.
It was a plane, a car, boat and train… it was!
[with just a little thought]
Aye, when I was small
My bestest toy
had been a battered old
cardboard box… it was.
It had been a plane, a car, boat and train… it had!
My battered old cardboard box…
by Neil Kendrick
(age 43½)
Both spiritual and lustful, a wide white smile on an attractive face inset with curious eyes, that parallel her nature; a duality of Self, sexuality and confidence. And yet, although no libertine, it can easily seen, that here is a woman in tune, with her Need.
Facing Sanction?
There is only one thing a man truly has and, that is Onesself. That sense of self, within a greater whole, can be a driving force, for some.
Whilst for others, that very same sense of self can be disruptive and thus, destructive to the greater whole.
The whole itself has no space for the individual and so, the greater one’s sense of self, the more the greys and their pens’ will feel threatened.
And, when the greys and their pen’s feel fear, those with a sense of self, face sanction.
Walking out and about and heading down to my perfect place and the serenity of The Mere, where I’d sit on the wall and pall at the sound of motorists passing by, I had glanced to the left and saw the small black bag, filled and knotted and left the by the base of a hedge and then just a few minutes later I saw five or more, on the floor near the base of the tree of the corner of the road, that led to The Mere. And, I got to thinking about the dog walkers, doing it for their health, as they left their little presents, for all to see… like me…
COMMENTS
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NikkiAidyn
03:14 Sep 24 2013
Those kinds of days..
I would've went back to bed.
Chonrie
23:44 Dec 07 2013
I Hope Not; Shivering. :)