Snow White’s Robin

Day 21 of napowrimo

 

 

I saw her coming closer

She didn’t see me hide

I watched her knock on the door

I flew onto the roof.

No one answered, she stepped inside

I flew to the window sill.

She looked around the little house

I kept very still

She counted all the chairs

I was brave and hopped inside

She counted all the cups and plates

i watched her as she moved

she climbed the stairs and counted beds

i flew to the edge of the room

She lay down on the little bed

I hopped onto the post

She closed her eyes and dozed right off

I closed my eyes as well.

Suddenly I heard loud shouts

My feathers shook

‘Who is this girl’ a little man said

I wanted just to hide

She opened her eyes and said ‘hello’

The little men stood back

‘Hello little robin were you looking after me?’

She asked as she stroked my head

I nodded slowly and looked around

The seven men were not pleased

‘I’m Snow White, can i stay a while?’

She asked the one with the ears

They nodded slowly, no one spoke

She got right out of bed.

And with that they followed her down the stairs

And i flew overhead

She made them dinner

We all sat down

And that’s how the story started

As for the bad bits

We will skip them now

I rather like the way it is

Happiness and lots of smiles

Snow white, seven dwarves and

Me the little red robin

Who watched the story unfold.

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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.

Par or under Par that is the question?

I know nothing of golf

As I sit and watch

The men they stand

And eye up the hole

They ponder and think

They look and look

They slice the ball

High into the air

As it lands on the green

They walk, they talk

Decide on a club

Then time to putt

To gently stroke the ball

Encouraging it into the hole

So I sit and watch

The ball flying high

I have no idea of the game

The rules the regulations

I’m as blonde as it comes

It’s either this or the racing again

Its gentle, it’s quite

It’s thinking time

No matter how much I watch

I will never get

Par Under par or birdie

patience of a spider

Suspended from the ceiling

motionless

you look like a statue

Frozen

transfixed by your stillness

Spellbound

Without warning you drop

Swifly

Your delicate invisible strand

Smoothly

your long legs are still

gliding

you reach your target

Pausing

I watch, wait, wonder

Patience

I will apply the same

Composure

You are always a beautiful

facination