Waiting Game

I've waited an hour
the doctor is late. 
eyes glazed over.
The will to live is dying. 
I've stopped clock watching. 
Time stands still. 
Whispering voices
Pings of phones
an automated voice 
announcing names, 
its hot in here
No space to move
Coughing and sneezing
Shuffling feet 
Time ticks by
An hour an hour 
what could I have done, 
married a couple, 
had afternoon tea, 
gone for a swim, 
put up that curtain rail,
cooked a stew, 
gone to Pilates, 
watched my favourite show. 
An hour slipped by,
I look at the floor, 
my shoes are dirty,
I look at some more, 
worn out trainers, 
muddy boots, 
High heeled shoes
flip flops, 
And slippers 
the waiting room is full, 
they are standing now. 
How much longer
I could ask if I dare
But if I move 
My seat will be taken. 
I wait a bit longer
I look at my watch
I'm brave,
I ask, 
they direct me away,
down a corridor
to another room, 
to start a new waiting game.
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Perfect end

Rushing around,

a hundred miles an hour

hardly time to breathe yet stop.

Phone ringing, emails pinging

people talking loudly.

So much to do, so little time

End of the day is close.

Home again, breathe again

relax kick of my shoes.

Long hot soak,

candles around the bath

bubbles up to my ears,

soft music playing

finally resting

Ice cream with a flake

movie on the screen

curled up with you

a perfect end.

shoes on the pavement

All manor of shoes

going in the same direction

quick small steps

fast larger ones

shuffles and slow plods

as I follow them all

Spotty wellies with bows on the back

Shiny brown brogues

black scuffed lace ups

high heels tottering

black trainers with neon stripes

furry green boots

purple doc martins

all going the same way

all on a mission

all keen to get home.