Bored To The Word

 I gaze at the sky
 the sun is at its peak
 I espy a glare enough 
that blind the eyes.

 The broad blue spectrum,
now a sheet of silvery white,
 seems to accompany me 
in my travel to the land 
 of monotony.

Nothing really happens in noon
I think i the world over.
 One of laid back, people 
slacken, birds retreat,
sun  burning constant.

With that I fall asleep
right in the afternoon,  
 under a  fan  creaking
and jostling sans perspiring
a siesta enlivening.

Awakened by the milk man
 who rings the bell at three sharp 
I hasten to get going. 
Tea and snacks solicit me.
to partake and participate.