Just For Fun




I wonder what you do when you don’t have anything that really needs done. When there’s nothing shouting, ‘I need done and I need done now!’ I try to fill that wee patch of time with something really pleasurable. That’s why I have a photo album beside my fireside chair, why I have a 99 piece jig-saw-a-day organised on my iPad and why there is a poetry book right next to it. It’s also why, when an engagement is cancelled at short notice, I’ve schooled myself to see it as bonus time rather than when to do some ironing. That certainly takes the irritation out of last-minute changes of plan.

Sometimes, but not often enough, I use such times to write a poem just for fun. Here is one such poem.


Thunderstorm


21.03 Three individuals

working individually:

Dad in his study

poring over papers,

me on the phone,

as usual,

daughter doing homework.

What’s new?


The bang was new,

both crash and flash were new.

Darkness followed,

ancient and empty.


21.05 filled the instant Dad arrived

dark behind his torch,

then daughter with candles

- cinnamon scented -

and concern.


21.15 for ten minutes

we worked as one:

found the gas lantern,

phoned Scottish Power

and candlelit the house.


21.25 Three individuals

working individually:

Dad in his study

peering at his papers,

me on the phone,

as usual,

daughter doing candlelit,

cinnamon-scented homework.


Written for the Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers and used by kind permission.

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