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written_leavesI want to kill my alarm clock.
Today's entries will be drawn from my store of original poetry (i.e. not based on a fandom, just my own life and thoughts).
These two are a light kick-off, a couple brief verses for those too-early mornings and too-busy days.
Pleasing to None
Pleasing to none,
New day's dark beginning,
Before the sun rises, when black is the sky;
Not yet resurrected, not yet is it living,
Though those in their slumbers
Oft wish it would die.
Pleasing to none,
The small hours of morning,
Before the sweet colors sweep upward the east;
When all the soft dreaming is broken a-borning,
And cold is the shivering
When night is at least.
-
Another Day, Please
Under a heap of tasks half-done,
Unfinished piles, house chores re-run,
I've lost my new list midst yesterday's,
O, what I wouldn't give for one more day!
Tomorrow, why aren't you Today?
I need your hours to while away,
To put away clean things, to wash all the rest,
To sort and to finish - o, how I'd be blessed!
I vote that we make it a new written rule:
The hours of two days are woven and pooled,
We all get twice over the time that we face,
To order and scurry all over the place.
What harm would it do us? What leisure we'd know,
Less stressful, less hectic, less sleep to forego.
Twenty-four hours? We want forty-eight!
With this declaration now nothing is late!
-
Today's entries will be drawn from my store of original poetry (i.e. not based on a fandom, just my own life and thoughts).
These two are a light kick-off, a couple brief verses for those too-early mornings and too-busy days.
Pleasing to None
Pleasing to none,
New day's dark beginning,
Before the sun rises, when black is the sky;
Not yet resurrected, not yet is it living,
Though those in their slumbers
Oft wish it would die.
Pleasing to none,
The small hours of morning,
Before the sweet colors sweep upward the east;
When all the soft dreaming is broken a-borning,
And cold is the shivering
When night is at least.
-
Another Day, Please
Under a heap of tasks half-done,
Unfinished piles, house chores re-run,
I've lost my new list midst yesterday's,
O, what I wouldn't give for one more day!
Tomorrow, why aren't you Today?
I need your hours to while away,
To put away clean things, to wash all the rest,
To sort and to finish - o, how I'd be blessed!
I vote that we make it a new written rule:
The hours of two days are woven and pooled,
We all get twice over the time that we face,
To order and scurry all over the place.
What harm would it do us? What leisure we'd know,
Less stressful, less hectic, less sleep to forego.
Twenty-four hours? We want forty-eight!
With this declaration now nothing is late!
-