Picture courtesy of Samantha Dean and http://www.redbubble.com Awake before the sun does rise
Looking out at gloomy skies
Sleep still in watery eyes
Much to do, how time flies
Dustmen rattle down below
Waking the dead as they to and fro
Bottles crash and shatter home
As the cart swallows them with a groan
Market traders set up for the day
Hoping for sun to be out to play
Maybe then they will get some pay
Or go home like the skies so grey
No many hear the call of the crow
Even he’s still in bed you know
On a cold, wet June he’ll not show
Even the mountains of Scotland have snow
With creaking joints a-popping
And eyelids still a-dropping
Movement is made, half groping
To the shower for awakening
Let the day commence
Let it for once make sense
Maybe make a few pence
Out of life’s little mess
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 