Pondering Peacocks
Waking slowly from a drowsing sleep
As morning light intrudes itself
Creeping unbidden under eyelids
At the very edge of dawn
Still faint and frowsy
As the last lingering strands
Of dreams and rambling thoughts
Stretch out longer and longer
Until they gently snap
The final threads of contact
With night-time places
Which then recede and fade
Among the tangled bedclothes
Intrusive worries for the day ahead
The grey, the mundane
The heavy, usual round
Of tedious tasks and dreary chores
The things that must be done
People that must be met
Appointments kept
And all the other things
Demanded by one’s daily life
Prompted by the relentless movement
Of digits of the bed-side clock
But reluctant yet to make that start
And time, being only relative
The sheets and pillows feel still warm
Clinging and making calming claim
Upon the tired, restless body
The hour is yet but early
There is still a tiny chance
To conserve some precious energy
And preserve some mindful meanderings
To postpone the inevitable
And hold the last few moments
Of some happiness within
By thinking of better things
Floating into vivid colour
And pondering perhaps
Upon peacocks
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