Tonight is measured in coffee cups
And sitting downs and getting ups
Me writing more and more of me writing
Suddenly it appears that I’m ‘all-nighting’
The clock has run around too fast
And midnight is come, is gone, now is past.
Outside the night is getting windier
And I’m flirting with a girl in India.
Thursdays come and Thursdays go
And days and weeks just melt like snow.
In the dishwasher, dishes shove,
Look up the Hindi word for love.
Now wind me down and no more create
Indian music and meditate.
I’ll soon be adrift in the sleep-time pond
And restfully take sleep’s journey beyond.
INSPIRED BY OCTOBER WRITING PROMPTS
THOUGHTS AND PERSPECTIVES FROM THE MIND OF A COMMON GIRL
COPYRIGHT © 2017 GRANT FENTON – ALL RIGHTS RESERVED