It feels like i’ve been playing tiddly winks with my time
Throwing away days and days into a discarded lunchbox
Like a schoolchild killing time, bobbing at the edge of their seat
As the clock flirts with the idea of striking quarter past 3
Just waiting for that rumoured telegram from your end
To signify your return to our beloved rock
Ideas of dipping our feet in the riverbed
While gorging on pre-planned ham sandwiches
Parade my mind like everyday’s a new Mardi Gras
Made to heighten the anticipation of tasting your mouth
Oh gem stoned eyed lady, I understand the confusion
But don’t let my solitude deceive you now
I’m less a wolf on patrol at the park gates, waiting to be fed
I’m more akin to an aktia, waiting for its master on the porch
I can see you position your hands on the bar
With the precision of an open heart surgeon
Like rooks on a chessboard, ready to claim the king
But I feel I must remind, I’m loyal to my queen
Ready to get down on my knees the very moment
That she decides to grace the streets again
But this time next week, if you see me alley bound
Like a lost pup left out in the pouring rain
Lacking the usual collar, now with no one to call my own
You’re welcome to give me shelter
Take me in your arms and take me home
And while you’re at it, take away all the grief
That comes with being abandoned on the doorstep
It takes a heart of pure gold to take in a mutt like me
Oh emerald gazed woman, I’d of tried to make you smile earlier
But I could never betray her, who showed me silver lined mornings
In a sea of gray tainted days, I could never break the heart
Of a saint who never asked for it, but in light of these events
An empty inbox, and a reservoir of unspent affection
Maybe I’ll take you up on that drink
Domestic Poetry 