Stormy Day
It is a wild and
stormy day,
filled with ominous
clouds of grey.
A day of portents
and omens grim,
a day to feel sorry
for all my sins.
Eagles flapping
round my head,
then stealing the
covers from my bed.
Looking at the
crossword today,
One Across...
Go Away.
Then one down...
can't be found,
the final clue
a mournful sound.
Sip my coffee
bite my toast,
wonder what
worries me most.
Is it getting old
or staying young?
working hard
or having fun?
Getting up or
staying in bed,
keeping calm
or seeing red.
Nothing seems right
all seems wrong.
life is too short
each day too long.