It was eight in the morning
thought it was only six
as the morning was not as bright
as it usually is
with darkness still hanging
and a lovely breeze gently flowing
did not allow her to get up.
Stretching her arms long
and yawning widely
she cuddled herself in the bed
pulling her quilt over
No call awaiting her in the early hours
except a few business work
which would begin only after 10 a.m
she closing her eyes lay on her bed
for a while and then with great effort
got up to get herself ready
for the day in her own time.
Ageing gives certain comfort
and relaxation which otherwise
would have been stoutly opposed.
As we grow old our speed also
gets slowed down to a tone
where mellowing down to a
maturity and understanding
that develops into a patience
and tolerance and finally
into a serenity
.
Categories
Meenas Poems 