Some Days

My day

Is glorious

With apple pie,

Fluffy, white clouds

A gleam in my eye.

My day

Is restful,

With toast and tea,

Calling, young robin

A book on my knee.

My day

Is pale grey,

With leftover swede,

Heavy, mud footpath,

A mind full of need.

My day

Is wild storms.

No desire to take part

Fierce, swirling tree tops

Torrential, rain in my heart.