Poetry by Jeff Green


Odds and Sods in a cluttered mind on Monday

by cricketjeff on August 11, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

I’m Listening to cricket while I work at this and that
Composing poetry inside my mind
A friend just called me on the phone, we had a little chat
Yet somehow Mondays still contrive to grind
There isn’t any sense to it, it’s just another day
But nobody would really mind if they were swept away

A cut through extra cover and the update script completes
I better have a look at all those logs
I feel a little better as I chew my birthday sweets
And dream that you were here for lots of snogs
I’ve never understood it Mondays should not make me blue
Why can’t it be a Sunday and why can’t I be with you?

Oh damn it Bell has just been bowled, Ntini screams with joy
Just fifty more and England will have won
I’m looking at some software that my website could employ
Another wicket goes, this isn’t fun
Snap out of it you silly clot, you know things will work out
But Mondays are the only days that have such room for doubt

A cup of tea? Now that’s more like! Shrug off the mournful mood
Stop writing tosh, and dunk a ginger nut
It’s time to hit the kitchen and to rustle up some food
And time this box of musings should be shut
It’s only Monday once a week, and Tuesday follows soon
And all of you have guessed it, that’s a perfect rhyme for Moon.