Waiting

How like a prison my dear home can feel
When waiting here for parcels to arrive.
The clothes that had such catalogue appeal
In Royal Mail vans were loaded for their drive.

After several days they’ve not appeared
The Escalation team attempt to trace
Meanwhile, I get writer’s block  from fear
You’d think they had to carve Big Ben  from ice.

At last, an answer, ring our famous store
They can  cancel any thing ordered
My lace and coloured wish, is wish no more
Sweet lingerie embroidered,  hors d’oeuvre.

I used my phone so much I’m turning grey
To think  for all this waiting I must pay.