Doris One Morning 1964.

It was morning,

well at least she

Assumed it was.

There was bright light

coming through gaps

in the curtains;

a bright sliver

of light fell on

her bed covers.

What day was it?

not a work day;

must be Sunday

it seemed like it,

that quietness

that Sundays had,

well they did then.

So she lay there

kind of relaxed,

the whole day there

ready to use

in some fashion.

Perhaps to lay

in bed longer

have late breakfast,

go for a walk,

sit by the Thames

watching boats pass,

talk with her friends,

have a few drinks.

What about lunch?

eat out some place

some restaurant, 

make it worthwhile.

But maybe it

wasn’t Sunday,

perhaps Monday,

time to get up,

wash and dress quick,

snatch a breakfast

before leaving,

getting the bus,

mixing with crowds

busy bodies,

lots of chatter,

then into work

the first day back.

Or maybe not,

you had forgot

your holiday

time to use up.

So you relaxed,

snuggle down more,

that enjoyment

of lying there

on a Monday;

no need to rush

let the world move

while you enjoy

your silent hush.