Being Here

Racing blindly round the bend,
Jumping forward to the end,
Skimming over boring text,
Chasing after what comes next.

The fresh allure of pastures new,
Promising a better view,
The greener grass, not far away,
Inviting us to come and stay.

We never look before we leap,
Landing somewhere way too deep,
Fast-forwarding to what comes next,
Missing out on life’s subtext.

Life shouldn’t be a constant race,
Let’s vote today for slower pace,
And take some time to figure out,
What being here is all about.

Snooze-ology

I’ve found, as I get older,
An “ology” I love,
The art of having forty winks,
Or fifty, or above.

It’s something I’ve perfected,
To get me through the day,
I simply have to close my eyes,
And soon I’m well away.

A little snooze each afternoon,
Restores my power cell,
But sometimes I just can’t wake up,
And sleep all night as well.

Stormageddon

Gusty Gertie blew into town,
Knocking all of our houses down,
She smashed the new Town Hall to bits,
Leaving just a pile of sticks.

A hoarding just blew down the street,
It knocked the news crew off their feet,
It’s like some classic movie scene,
Surreal, a dream, not real I mean.

A lorry slides across the road,
The diesel station will explode.
Bits of trees fly through the air,
A washing line, some underwear.

People run for basement safety,
Despite foundations looking shaky,
Some are fleeing in their cars,
Whilst others hide in downtown bars.

Then nothing. Everything goes still,
No one moves, or breathes, until
We know the worst of it has gone
And peace returns,
And life moves on.

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