The Waiting Room

Have you noticed?

Waiting room clocks are LOUD!

So are the people who pass outside the door.

Moreover:

Why does the time go so slowly?

And why do the passing conversations seem so trivial?

Putting these things to one side for the moment

The big question is…

Will it actually be worthwhile

Spending this part of my life HERE?

 

Imagine

Try to imagine this with me

Quiet your mind, let it roam free

Looking out over a calm blue sea

At a foreign shore where you could be

 

Drift across that peaceful scene

To wave kissed beaches, still pristine

Edged by tall trees in verdant green

No sound but bird song, so serene

 

There, just there, pause and wait

Relish the moment and aspirate

Here where time is more sedate

Open your soul to a higher state

 

A Poor Crop

If my tomato plants could speak

They would surely sing with praise

About the tidy greenhouse

As they enjoy summer days

 

Grow bags lined up precisely

Canes readied for support

Windows open for fresh air

A perfect life in short

 

Why, then, do they bear so little

Of the round and deep red fruit

It offends me and seems selfish

Of that there’s no dispute

 

Each evening I check in on them

Down the winding garden path

But their offerings are so paltry

I think they’re having a laugh

 

My neighbour says they’re dying

But how can he be sure

He says they must need feeding

But, like watering, at that I’m poor