Seventh Sunday
I arose to such a clatter
Of pots and pans in my head
Arose to "what's the matter..
with you?", lying in bed
It's 3 o clock in the afternoon
And all was said and done
I had been lying there for hours
The battle, not yet won
Feeble feet ran swift-footed warriors
As they trampled through the fields
Past the Equilibrium, and around to the left earlobe
Fighting the memories, that they would once yield
I'm stumped.....this will be updated shortly.....as soon as i get my brain back into the flow
Of pots and pans in my head
Arose to "what's the matter..
with you?", lying in bed
It's 3 o clock in the afternoon
And all was said and done
I had been lying there for hours
The battle, not yet won
Feeble feet ran swift-footed warriors
As they trampled through the fields
Past the Equilibrium, and around to the left earlobe
Fighting the memories, that they would once yield
I'm stumped.....this will be updated shortly.....as soon as i get my brain back into the flow