A day of rest,
jimmys and vest.
Odd socks on,
i’ve not got long.
Fill up my coffee cup,
then put my feet up.
Read the mornings papers,
sun burns the frosty vapours.
Oh how I love the Sunday hush,
soft, delicate and void of rush
Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015.
Turning, spinning, stealing my stuff.
You must think, you’re so bloody tough.
Socks torn apart from their very soles,
My favourite dress, filled with holes.
Time portal of separation,
R2D2’s evil, mechanical operation,
Another world, another place,
Where odd socks fill every space.