Poem: Monday Morning
Written on 01-30-2012
It’s Thursday afternoon, I am leaving work,
I busily make my lists
I’m writing down all I need to pack
Because soon I’ll be going to the
It’s Friday evening, I’m at the hotel,
Convention’s about to start
I’m hugging those that I’ve been missing
And then I find my fav’rite seat in
the ballroom at the filk con!
It’s Saturday late afternoon, I’m at Interfilk
I’ve come armed with a budget
I’m not resisting the wenches’ charms
Easy to persuade while seated in
the chair in the ballroom at the filk con.
It’s Sunday after dinner, I’m at the Dead Dog
Convention’s nearly over
I’d pour my heart out but my heart’s here
Somewhere that I belong, singing in
the circle with the chair in the ballroom at the filk con.
It’s Monday morning and I’m at work,
I blearily blink and yawn
Searching for the wrong set of faces,
I’m at the office, yet I’m still in
with my friends in the circle with the chair in the ballroom at the filk con.
And I promise I’ll be back next year.
Posted on 2012/01/30, in Filk, Poetry, Poetry Forms, Silliness, Structured - Miscellaneous, Tales from Life, Uncategorized and tagged conflikt, filk, poem, poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.