PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's Tuesday morn', nearly 2:00 am,

And I'm waiting for the cheque again.

There's been alot of times misladen spent,

Like a Bedouin with no tribe but a splendid new tent.



I try to bide my time with coy utterances about the house,

Like, ain't the painting looking fine? No it's really grouse!

Yes, deemed not coy or demure just open and frank,

Like the credit of 4 cents when I ring the bank.



But I instead 'am supposed to trundle off in the 'morrow,

With a happy heart and my mother's love I borrow,

As we head in sorted search for that elusive bargain,

She is growing old and I cannot wish my pardon.



A last dash for the back trouser ass-ATM,

May well see reprieve in a heavy fall prem',

Of nothing spared like small gold statuettes,

When the trip pays for all rents.



Whose rent shall it pay? I say, I say,

It is not mine for I have nowhere to stay,

But maybe if my mind leaps one more miserable step,

I will have found my opening to the semi-breve rest.



(c) R.H. Elliott 2004