Mid-morning. That is my favourite time.
After the hustle of the morning has fizzled out. The school-bus has departed riding on a puff of exhaust fumes, and powered by a bus load of dreams, giggles and nail-biting tests, when the bread winner has chugged out of the garage on his old automobile, when the elderly have bathed and breakfasted, is when I get to lift my running feet off the ground, and rest it with a cup of sugarless coffee and a slice of watermelon.
when I get to receive and send mushy messages on whatsapp, or chuckle on some private joke only for my eyes, sent to me half way across the globe.
When I get to write my blog in peace and contemplate on the next moves of a squirrel chasing a mynah in my lawn .
After the hustle of the morning has fizzled out. The school-bus has departed riding on a puff of exhaust fumes, and powered by a bus load of dreams, giggles and nail-biting tests, when the bread winner has chugged out of the garage on his old automobile, when the elderly have bathed and breakfasted, is when I get to lift my running feet off the ground, and rest it with a cup of sugarless coffee and a slice of watermelon.
when I get to receive and send mushy messages on whatsapp, or chuckle on some private joke only for my eyes, sent to me half way across the globe.
When I get to write my blog in peace and contemplate on the next moves of a squirrel chasing a mynah in my lawn .
No comments:
Post a Comment