10-19-2017, 06:53 AM
Fighting fabric that never fits,
never my idea for a fun filled Saturday morning.
The sun streaming through the open window
as the ice cream van chimes
and children demand change,
their X Box left unattended,
if only for a moment.
Tugging, twisting, turning,
feathers fluttering,
marshmellow moments
trying desperately to escape
this secluded space
they should call home.
This was said to be simple,
but like a Mary Berry recipe
that offers so much with so little effort,
nothing is ever quite as simple as it seems
as the potatoes burn & the soufflé
is not as firm as we would like.
Finally, the material slithers into position,
a strange sense of satisfaction
simply premature relief
as the realisation hits,
there has been a casualty of war,
torn at the seams
you inwardly scream
"is their a Doctor in the house?"
---
BLOODY PILLOW CASE:
Fighting fabric that never fits,
never my idea for a fun filled Saturday morning.
The ice cream van chimes
as children demand change,
their X Box left unattended,
if only for a moment.
The sun streaming through the window,
my mind drifts,
sand castles,
ice creams,
buried treasure.
Tugging, twisting, turning,
trying to fit this cat in the box
where it never wants to go.
Pulling at corners,
edges wriggling free
as buttons pop open,
escaping the space they should call home.
This was said to be simple,
but like a Mary Berry recipe
that offers so much with so little effort,
nothing is ever quite as simple as it seems
as the potatoes burn & the soufflé
is not as firm as we would like.
Damn these high expectations we set for ourselves.
Finally, the material slithers into position,
a strange sense of satisfaction
simply premature relief
as the realisation hits,
there has been a casualty of war,
torn at the seams
the pillow case screams
"is there a Doctor in the house?"
never my idea for a fun filled Saturday morning.
The sun streaming through the open window
as the ice cream van chimes
and children demand change,
their X Box left unattended,
if only for a moment.
Tugging, twisting, turning,
feathers fluttering,
marshmellow moments
trying desperately to escape
this secluded space
they should call home.
This was said to be simple,
but like a Mary Berry recipe
that offers so much with so little effort,
nothing is ever quite as simple as it seems
as the potatoes burn & the soufflé
is not as firm as we would like.
Finally, the material slithers into position,
a strange sense of satisfaction
simply premature relief
as the realisation hits,
there has been a casualty of war,
torn at the seams
you inwardly scream
"is their a Doctor in the house?"
---
BLOODY PILLOW CASE:
Fighting fabric that never fits,
never my idea for a fun filled Saturday morning.
The ice cream van chimes
as children demand change,
their X Box left unattended,
if only for a moment.
The sun streaming through the window,
my mind drifts,
sand castles,
ice creams,
buried treasure.
Tugging, twisting, turning,
trying to fit this cat in the box
where it never wants to go.
Pulling at corners,
edges wriggling free
as buttons pop open,
escaping the space they should call home.
This was said to be simple,
but like a Mary Berry recipe
that offers so much with so little effort,
nothing is ever quite as simple as it seems
as the potatoes burn & the soufflé
is not as firm as we would like.
Damn these high expectations we set for ourselves.
Finally, the material slithers into position,
a strange sense of satisfaction
simply premature relief
as the realisation hits,
there has been a casualty of war,
torn at the seams
the pillow case screams
"is there a Doctor in the house?"