I want to be able to put something into this blog every week, so I've been trying to come up with an idea that ensures I do :)
I've seen 'Things I Love Thursday' and such, but what if I love things on a Sunday...?
So, after some pondering, I thought maybe it would be nice for us to indulge ourselves in some poetry, sophisticated, I know. And after that I'll pop off to watch some You've Been Framed...
Here's a nice little one, hope you enjoy it...
"Trying to Sleep Late on a Saturday Morning in November"
In the living room walter Cronkite
prepares us for the moon shot.
We are approaching
the third and final phase, this
is the last exercise.
I settle down,
far down into the covers.
My son is wearing his space helmet.
I see him move down the long airless corridor,
his iron boots dragging.
My own feet grow cold.
I dream of yellow jackets and near
frostbite, two hazards
facing the whitefish fishermen
On Satus Creek.
But there is something moving
there in the frozen reeds
something on its side that is
slowly filling with water.
I turn onto my back.
All of me is lifting at once,
as if it were impossible to drown.
--Raymond Carver
In the living room walter Cronkite
prepares us for the moon shot.
We are approaching
the third and final phase, this
is the last exercise.
I settle down,
far down into the covers.
My son is wearing his space helmet.
I see him move down the long airless corridor,
his iron boots dragging.
My own feet grow cold.
I dream of yellow jackets and near
frostbite, two hazards
facing the whitefish fishermen
On Satus Creek.
But there is something moving
there in the frozen reeds
something on its side that is
slowly filling with water.
I turn onto my back.
All of me is lifting at once,
as if it were impossible to drown.
--Raymond Carver
Well, I hope this works out.
See you next week with another random poem.
Cheers xx