Pondering Peacocks
Rousing slowly from the mist and murk
Of a drowsing sleep
Morning light intruding itself
Creeping unbidden under eyelids
At the very edge of dawn
Faint and frowsing
As the last lingering strands
Of dreams and rambling nightmares
Stretch out longer and longer
Snapping the final threads of contact
With night-time places
Which then recede and fade
Among the tangled bedclothes
The day ahead intrudes itself
Grey, mundane, heavy
Insidiously mutters
About tedious tasks and dreary chores
Things that must be done
People to be met, appointments kept
The detritus of relationships
Demanded by one’s daily life
Prompted by the relentless movement
Of digits on the bed-side clock
But reluctant yet to make a start
And time, being only relative
The sheets and pillows still warm
Cling womb-like and calmly claim
The tired restless body
While the hour is cock-crow early
There is still a fleeting chance
To conserve precious energy
And preserve mindful meanderings
To postpone the inevitable
And hold the last few moments
Of some happiness within
By thinking of better things
Before floating back to vivid colour
And pondering perhaps
Upon peacocks
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