Poetry by Jeff Green

1815–A_hot_bath.html

A hot bath

by cricketjeff on February 26, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

There’s impending relaxation in a foaming bubble bath,
Then an overdose of reading in the torpid aftermath.
On the windowsill beside me there’s a glass of ginger wine;
In this world of creature comfort surely everything is fine.

As I add some more hot water, so I almost have to gasp,
I can feel that inspiration’s moving close enough to grasp.
While the voices on the inside are delighted by the heat
And they bat around the meter ’til the poetry’s complete.

Once I’ve washed myself all over and I’ve lain to have a soak,
It is time to drain the water or I’ll be a prune-like bloke.
Then I lie beneath a bath-towel not quite sure if I’m awake;
While the troubles of existence find the time to take a break.

There is nothing I can think of that I’d really rather do –
That is unless you’ll let me lie down here and dream of you.