SIMPLICITY

Lying here
Lying here alone,
The morning just awakening
Aching mind, ageing bone.
Feeble light
Slithers through the curtains,
What does the day hold?
I'm not sure, uncertain.
Can't be bothered
Be bothered to move,
There appears to be a scratch
In my physical groove.
I've no spark
Spark or inner electricity,
My minds inner sanctum
Confused without simplicity.
Thoughts float about
I pluck one from the air,
Make some tea it says
If I could have a care.
A yawn, a scratch
Oh such hedonistic artistry
Singular hand picked pleasure
If all was such simplicity.
So now I have to move
If only to save the sheet,
But rarely a nightmares combat
Leave them very neat.
Pins and needles
Surge through my toes,
When one reaches an age
That's how life goes.
The stumbling gait
Accompanies the short walk,
Into the bathrooms sanctuary
Without the morning stalk.
Handheld lean and half asleep
Concentrating on the aim,
A bladder the size of a beachball
Emptying with sighed acclaim.
Reflective morning gargoyle
Stares back in electrums grin,
Gnarled hand rubs gingerly
Over rough and grizzled chin.
Eyes, which surely dipped in gravel
Try to focus without success,
And sleep filled, birdnest hair
Completes the hideous mess.
Staggered eblutions over
Time to don the attire,
Unwashed T shirt, unironed jeans
This complacent style I can aspire.
This is it, this is life
The struggle to maintain simplicity,
The daily grind and lifestyle rigors
The loss of youth a pity.

Phil Hall  March 2014