Every morning up at five
stretching to punch through
the day and smile
even though it’s dark outside
I’ve been at this too long
trusting the path to turn
one way or the other
On it goes straight past
where I planted my seeds
Still waiting to sprout
trapped in dry sand
Degrees on my wall
fill up the space
giving me pride
for a job well done
But there’s still that
breath I hold inside
A parched throat
thirsty for rain
– – –
Words: Timed free-verse (10 minutes), c.b.w. 2018
midmorning
hidden birds sing
to a quiet street
– – –
Photo: Muswell Hill, London, c.b.w. 2011
Words: haiku, c.b.w. 2018
half-awake I remember
yesterday was a bad day
I clutch the blankets
reluctant to move
All the things I want to avoid
are out there waiting for me
winning a battle I never
wanted to fight
It would be easier
to stay here and hide
To give in give up
and keep my nose clean
But that isn’t me
All those things
trying to win
Can’t beat my most
genius move
I have a choice
to rise
to fight
to smile
and give
give
give
– – –
free-verse, c.b.w. 2018
C.B. Wentworth 