Winter Mornings

Something neither political or shanty related today. I don't know if it's a belated after effect of catching Covid-19 last year, but I note my eyes are a touch more light-sensitive when I awaken. Combine this with the resumption of a cold spate of weather and it took me a while to get out of bed. This inspired a short poem. 

The following day I noted frost on top of the cars parked in my street. This confirmed that I was right to turn my radiators on again - however briefly this period should be!

 

 

Winter Mornings

 

T'was far too bright for tired eyes.

From winter sun they hid.

I raised the duvet just a nick

and risked one peeper's lid.

I squinted at the clock display;

I thought that I should rise.

I let the cotton tunnel drop -

too bright for tired eyes.

 

The air's too cold for backs of arms.

The temp'rature's too low

I turned the radiators off

A couple-o' days ago.

The warmer spell was just a blip.

The bed still holds those charms.

I let the duvet drop again;

too cold for backs of arms.

 

Perhaps I should get out of bed

despite the light and cold.

Though forty minutes have passed by

it's not because I'm bold.

I'm not as young as once I was;

that's why I raise my head.

My bladder overrules my brain -

I should get out of bed.