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Late Again

He's late again, our postman,
God knows where he's been.
Sometimes, very often,
He's nowhere to be seen.
It's ten past three in the afternoon
And soon it will be evening.
Perhaps his van has broken down,
No mail we'll be receiving.
Of little consequence no doubt,
His offerings today would be,
The usual rubbish for the bin,
Like buy one get one free,
Along with home insurance, stair lifts,
Gifts from the garden centre,
Beauty aids and vitamin pills
To help you to remember.
Such trivia can fill our days,
Creating stress and worry.
Each day a long to-do list
And always in a hurry.
Today though comes unlikely news,
This earth we all inhabit
Has tilted in an aftershock,
What now awaits our planet ?
So worry not about the postman's van
And all our little woes.
What lies ahead for Everyman
We cannot presuppose.
The world looks on in some dismay
At how they've voted in the USA.




Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 8/28/2017 5:21:00 PM
This piece has pulled a serious moment. I worry too. Truth is worrying will not change it. I wonder sometimes if this is how it felt before World War 2. Thunder along the horizon. These are some of the thoughts your poem has awakened in my mind. Excellent piece.
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Peter Rees
Date: 8/29/2017 4:54:00 AM
Thank you Patricia. Yes, very worrying times.
Date: 8/28/2017 1:10:00 PM
NICE :) xomo
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Peter Rees
Date: 8/28/2017 1:50:00 PM
thanks Maureen
Date: 8/28/2017 11:09:00 AM
wow! i am impressed! nice words that rhymed, a little comedy there too; funny mr. postman - and yes, sadly, the state of the world is ever changing too. we can only pray for things to get better. cheers!
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Peter Rees
Date: 8/28/2017 11:16:00 AM
Thanks John -a bit of fun perhaps, but with serious undertones.