I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

14 April 2009

So We Decided To Stay in Bed (April Challenge 12)

Prompt: "So we decided to ..." as title.

Today there was nothing we had to do
that couldn’t wait. The calendar was blank,
not one appointment we had to keep.

We woke the first time at quarter to six,
the next at nine fifteen. All those cosy hours
the cats didn’t stir to demand breakfast.

Finally Andrew crept out and fed us all
the quick and easy way. Open a tin for them,
just toast for us and my obligatory coffee.

We ate in bed and settled with our books.
The cats rejoined us. The day outside was grey
with drizzling rain that later turned heavy.

Around two we thought about lunch
and I made an omelette. The cats woke up
looking hopeful, so we gave them a bit.

An hour or so later, not the same instant,
we both finished our books. We kissed each other
and snuggled down alongside the purring cats.

I finally rose and checked the email,
showered and dressed. I took the car to the shops
before they closed; it was still raining.

I bought tinned soup and baked beans
for a no-hassle dinner. We watched some TV
and ate chocolates; now it’s time for bed.


  1. what an idyllic dream day. not even a cat butt deciding to sit on forehead.

  2. Oh Pearl, it was a good day, but I'm not very happy with the poem - so prosey. Maybe will do a total rewrite later when I get time ... or write something else to the topic.