Money exchanged
Products obtained
No joy gained.
Shopping (A Poem)
5 Replies
Tag Archives: life
Stop Thief!
Today, as on every working day, I went into my office in central London with my trusty guide dog, Trigger. On opening my emails I was pleased to see, in among the various pieces of work requiring my attention that a colleague had emailed around saying that, in honour of his birthday he had made a lemon drizzle cake and we (lucky people) should help ourselves.
The cake was, I am pleased to report most delicious. Having partaken of the delights of cake I emailed my colleague thanking him for it and saying that, fortunately Trigger haden’t managed to get anywhere near my tasty snack, (Trigger has been known, on occasions to relieve unwary colleagues of their lunches. He is, obviously working for Wait Watchers and performing an invaluable function by preventing my office from over eating, noble beast that he is)!
Scarcely had I pressed send on my e-mail when I heard a commotion – Trigger had helped himself to the remains of a colleague’s slice of cake and, irony of ironies the person in question was none other than the birthday boy. Oops and double oops! Fortunately my colleague was more concerned whether the cake would upset Trigger’s stomach and not at all about the loss of his tasty snack. Oh the joys of taking one’s guide dog into the office. Anyone for cake? I’m sure I had a chocolate one somewhere. Now where could it have gone …
Happy guide dog Trigger
Some photographs of my guide dog Trigger taken in the office at Christmas time.
My Colleague Trigger relaxing on his bed in the office
Trigger with a toy in his mouth facing away from the camera
Shower
There is nothing like an invigorating shower to wake one up in the morning. Mine is an electric one and it’s powerful spray soon has the sleep cleared from my eyes and yours truly raring to go! Yesterday morning however the shower had slowed to a mere trickle meaning that my ablutions took somewhat longer than usual. I had visions of having to pay for a new unit as mine is rather elderly. The hassle of shopping for shower units, finding someone to plumb in the unit etc had me groaning inwardly.
On returning home yesterday evening I reached into the shower, fully clothed to see whether it had, somehow made a miraculous recovery. A powerful jet of water soaked both my shirt and the bathroom carpet. My shower is, I am pleased to report well and truly working! Additionally the soaking of my shirt thoroughly invigorated me after a hard day in my central London office. I would recommend my experience to anyone. After a day slaving away just put your arm inside the shower, (not bothering to disrobe prior to doing so). Don’t bother to check whether the shower is facing outwards (towards you and the bathroom carpet), just turn it on and, hey presto your fatigue will vanish in a veritable waterfall!
Yours ever,
A Duck
A Cup Of Tea
A cup of Earl Grey, no sugar, just milk. I lift and sip. Bits of china, fragile as a life disintegrate and fall away. Tiny pieces of broken existence nestle in my hand. A chip crater-like decorates the fragile under belly of the handle. I continue to drink. The handle holds. Once finished the plain white cup will be discarded, it’s utility at an end. The landfill beckons.
Heat
Oppressive heat. Barely a breath of wind. Smoke, something noxious, burning. A plane breaks the stillness. There is no restbite, the stifling heat continues.
Open Windows
Open windows, rain falling softly on the garden below. Often the scent of the ground, rich with earth wafts upwards like a fine tobacco but, tonight nothing. Why so scentless this evening?
My arm encased in it’s dressing gown explores. The touch of rain hardly a whisper on my hand – barely raining? And yet the sound of the water continues, rain falling, nature saying something but what?
Freedom
What is it to be free?
Freedom is walking barefoot as dawn lights up the sky, damp grass underfoot, wild birds flying unconstrained above.
Freedom is speaking without fear of consequences, no glancing with trepidation over one’s shoulder.
Freedom is letting go,, being who you want to be, not the personification of the desires of others.
Freedom is the passionate kiss, love unbound.
Freedom is life, the opposite of death.
Something Found By A Dog In A Graveyard
My dog found something in a graveyard, was it a bone I wonder? Chomp went his jaws, bone or whatever it was consigned to oblivion, to rumble and tumble in a canine’s stomach. Then out again, back to the ground, from the earth we come and to the earth we shall return.
Who Will Remember Me?
A plethora of books, a degree, when I cease to be, who will remember me? Laughter with friends, me caught in the lense, who will remember me? These thoughts in my head, gone once dead, who will remember me?
K Morris - Poet 