Tuesday’s dizzy quick-unpick,
first fix Monday’s foibles;
fill the calendar,
don’t forget to order dinner!
(And get that darling Dior dress!)
Before it’s Wednesday;
Friday looms and all the stitches
that stay my strictly bound ways
start to slip and I wonder what
is puzzling me:
I’m trying to find a needle
in the hectic haystack of my mind.
The weary, early light of Sunday’s timid rays
catch the sheen of a tarnished, tumbled thimbleful of hope;
I softly place my spectacles on the ledge
and bring my teacup to the garden,
drinking in forgiving green.
©Cindy Taylor 2008
“The World is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste to our powers;
Little we see in nature that is ours”