Poetry - January 2016

First Class Is Different Class

I headed back up to Manchester
On the afternoon of Christmas Eve
Going to see the woman I love
And spending my time on leave
It was good to relax in the station
And be in the first class lounge
Not having to cram into the hall
With everyone else around
Getting on to the train
And being offered food and drink
Was just a relaxing way to go
And allowed me time to think
How much nicer the journey is
When I have chance to go first class
A generally much lovelier time
And a feeling of a different class
Where you feel welcomed and adored
And comfortable by the window seat
The bargain I got to book on here
Was a really enjoyable feat
So much so that the woman I love
Came down to see me the same way
And enjoyed her relaxing journey
She felt it was going on holiday.

(I must admit First Class on the likes of Virgin Trains is rather lovely...)


So many boxes around
I just feel so impatient
I want to unpack them all
And place them neatly away
Most of them have CDs
Some of them have films
All of them need a place
So shelving units are my friend
Many visits to IKEA
And some mail order units
And everything now has a place
And looks all neat and organised
Now I'm all unpacked
I feel like it's more like home
And that is something special
For me to feel safe and warm.

(One thing I loathe about moving - boxes, boxes and more boxes. So glad not to have that now..)


I've taken some time
To get used to my new bed
A place to feel safe and warm
And to rest my weary head
But a nice new duvet feels good
Along with the covers from home
So I can rest and sleep peacefully
Wherever I may roam
It's so nice to be so still
And quiet all through the night
Feeling all cosy and warm
With no chill and no outside light
And when my love visited me
She felt the same comfort too
And I now have her scent here
So I even feel less blue.

(Amazing what a good night's sleep can do really..)


At the station
Is in a rush
Down the ramp
To the platform
To grab a space
The train is late
All on board
Mind the doors
We're all crammed in
At a pace
We all get off
To do it tonight.

(My, the commuting is so different and that's taken some getting used to. I just don't get all this running around rushing myself mind you..)

Winter Haiku

The weather turns cold
We all end up with the flu
Bunged up and sneezing.

(I think we've all had it at work this week..)