Scent,a dab

Earl Grey Tea
Poetry
Cyclamen
Fountain pen
Dark blue ink
Marble sink.
Pure silk linen
With my man in
Angry neighbours
Social labours.
Must be careful
As they’re there still
Cut down trees?
Angry bees.
No privacy
I can’t see.
Need new glasses.
Evening classes.
Writer’s groups
Poetry Soup.
Vested interest
Not on Pinterest
Where’s my money?
Am I funny?
Miss his worship.
Ate his turnips.
He liked fishes
On the dishes.
I broke the heart mug
On the hearth rug.
Fingers weakened
Bedtime beckoned
Dreamed of Robert
Not of Hubert.
Woke up lazy
Feeling mazy.
Shall I get up?
What’s your set up?
I got washed then
Saw that man,Len.
Went in town
In dressing gown.
I need a cab
And scent, a dab.
Where’s my mate?
In the Tate?
He liked Art
And I was smart.