Norfolk Terrace, Day 18. 23:59. A Boring Day In Verse
Besides the noontime waking,
This day did cause me aching:
Reading on and on that book
That seriously is not ending.
Mid-afternoon I ventured to,
To run a trail I knew not where
But only through a runner in view
Did I discern my way back fair.
To the gym I booked this Sun.,
An induction to use the gym soon
and after carrot-meatball-pasta fun,
I returned now to the book of doom.
Slow to read: some dialect, some dull,
I urged onwards through Sir Scott’s bull
(and bull it is, as fiction’s hook and pull)
‘Til last I came to the final page so gleeful.
Midnight struck so closely then,
So off to the kitchen I salvaged the den,
To find some chocolate solely to mend
The day sucked dry of playful friends.
~ The End ~
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