Saturday seeps slowly through these Venetian blinds
which are made by an Italian family resident
I think Saturday creeps in silently anyway,
in the garden that’s actually a balcony with
I watched the Sun such as it was go down.
Time loses something in the telling of its tale
as each minute passes amassing more
I have passed three score years
and never even noticed.
Milestones not millstones and yet both
We go on into the splendour
spend a moment here and there
and make him or her
the only one
and we go on.
Saturday is God’s way of saying,
‘here’s your reward’
And though I want to sleep
also want to keep these precious
moments alive and awake
and later to take the memory of them
She knows what I mean.
© 2018, John Smallshaw.