Poetry by Jeff Green


The Workaday World

by cricketjeff on October 20, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

The nagging phone demands my ear
The screen controls my eyes
A system change before New Year
A manual to revise

And somewhere there’s a golden beach
With gentle ocean breeze
A well stocked bar is just in reach
Beneath a stand of trees

The clean-up script has failed to clean
The run was error filled
No drivers for the new machine
Two zombies can’t be killed

A soft green mountain wrapped in cloud
And streaked with talking streams
Where talk of work is not allowed
And days are made of dreams

Please help us with this questionnaire,
“How helpful was our call”
Opinions I don’t care to share
“No bloody use at all!”

A clearing in an ancient wood
Lie still and watch the deer
The rabbits of this neighbourhood
Appear to know no fear

You want to meet about the plan
An hour at half-past-two?
Get Peter and the guy called Stan
As well as me and you.

There’s somewhere else I’d rather go
A better place to be
And there I’ll find just one I know
For perfect company