Evil Cold

Sorry to do another 'It's cold' one, but it is....

All rugged up, I leave home into the dark coldness - cold but not horrible.
Jacket, beanie and scarf warm my torso, but my thin pants brush against goosebumps.
Ice crystals cover everything, making even the letterbox look cold.
The clear sky opens, almost forgetfully allowing the cold to settle on the earth.
With each step, the grass beside my path shimmers and sparkles.
Cars look like convertibles with white roofs, and translucent windows.
Smokers brave the cold, and as I look around, most of the houses smoke too.
I guess how far cars have driven by the layers of ice still covering them.
Off the path toward the road, and the slippery grass crunches softly underfoot.
The normal early plane overhead is missing - perhaps delayed by ice.
A hint of warmth in the light appearing in the east, when will it arrive?
Much fewer walkers than normal, no dogs today, but rugged up fitness fanatics.
An itch on the back of my neck is inaccessible through my scarf.
My pocket turns to ice in the brief moment I remove my hand.
Reaching the bus stop means standing still, and the cold hits harder.
Joints numbing, freezing now that movement has ceased.
The sound of an engine in the distance has all of us at the stop glancing up the road eagerly.
Finally the bus, and we huddle aboard into the warmth.
The sky brightens, and coupled with the heater on the bus gives the sense that a warm day comes!
But still I'm greeted with a blast of cold as I alight in the city, the warmth all an illusion.

Nightime Release

A late night (or an early start),
Long time before Sparrow's Fart,
At work, All dark, and all alone,
Patiently waiting for the phone.

At half past two, it finally rings,
And interrupts my thoughts and things,
The games afoot, we have begun,
And now at last, these things get done.

All over now, we wait once more,
The testers try, they must make sure,
that all has been deployed to plan,
And everything that should have, ran.

It's almost six, barely awake,
I sit and wait for morn' to break,
Real processing will start to run,
And then, at last!! I shall be done!!

Working Winter

The cat sits on my lap, as I waste time at the computer,
Facebook, blogspot, email and other odds and ends,
Off to work soon, but first a little sanity,
Then out into the cold darkness of the morning.

Marching in place at the bus stop for a little warmth,
Clouds erupt with each breath, dissolving into the darkness,
A lonely plane makes its way across the lightening sky,
The drone of the bus approaches, and at the bus stop we form a haphazard line.

The ticket machine reluctantly accepts our tickets,
Too early, too cold even for computers,
The bus drivers warm greeting briefly takes and edge off the cold,
The old bus rattles off, looking to save more people from the cold.

Through the foggy windows we see the surroundings lighten,
As we traverse suburbia, street lights gradually disappear,
Replaced by a warm looking glow from the sun,
But when the doors open we feel that the look is just a deception.

The bus slows for roadworks, as the city skyline comes into view,
Other Motorists zoom by - ignoring the warnings to slow past the works,
Nearing our destination, we see increasing signs of a city waking to life,
While cleaners and newspaper deliveries farewell the last signs of night.

Alighting from the bus, I am reminded that it is still winter,
Frosty cold starts to seep in, starting at the toes,
A hot air balloon rises, and disappears towards where we came,
Mainly buses and street sweepers fight for position on the road.

Entering work, instant warmth greets me, and the outside cold is forgotten,
yet removing my scarf, I am reminded that this warm is superficial,
A heater under my desk thaws my frozen toes,
The darkness of the window reminds me that winter days aren't so bright.

The Week

Monday gone,
Four more days,
Then weekend.

Tuesday slows,
the working week,
boredom comes.

Wednesday hump,
Downhill from here,
Sick of work.

Thursday, wow!
This week is flying,
Nearly done.

Friday's here!!!
Lunchtime some beers,
Home at last!

Saturday flies,
shopping and stuff,
Restocked fridge.

Sunday, no!!!
Weekend nears end,
Work beckons.

Monday's back,
No rest for wicked,
far too soon

Football

It's gone...or is it?
we're now 4 and 7 - not the best stat,
But I guess preseason we weren't ranked?
we could still make the final eight.
And irrespecitve, we look quite good.
Ordinary sides still flog us sometimes,
but only one good side has flogged us,
Even sides that beat them are scared of them,
They shouldn't lose too many games.
We'll lose some more, but it's not all bad,
some of our young-fellas look good.
This year is gone, perhaps the next,
but mark my words (I wouldn't jest),
I think our future looks quite bright.
I'd love to say 'next year',
but perhaps not quite.
Two or three might be a guess.....
46 years between grand finals is far too long....

Football

I love my team, I hope they win,
I'll Wait for the game to begin,
We had no chance at start of year,
yet these young blokes must have no fear.

They might be twelfth, it may be true,
But there's still more that they could do,
In fact I heard the experts say,
They might be in the 'eight' today.

This year there's not much in the teams,
And any side can win, it seems,
We're 4 and 6 with 10 rounds gone,
The season's not yet halfway done.

Although there's plenty in the season yet,
The toughest sides, we've probably met,
Ironically the games we've failed,
we played the sides we should've nailed.

at ten past two the siren roars,
And then we focus on the scores,
The rain pours at the M.C.G.
but can we win? I guess we'll see...