4th January 2014

Sonnet 61

"Is it thy wil, thy image should keep open

My heavy eielids to the weary night?

Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,

While shadowes like to thee do mocke my sight?"

Why is your mobile turned off, wilful thee?

A hipster mum like me's too cool to prye,

My creed is there's nothing you can't tell me

I don't do teenage social Jelousie,

Still remember what makes wee small hours great

And it's not waiting for you, wide awake...

This Mumartyrdom's the final defeat -

Endured for some unconcerned offspring's sake.

We've bought good network coverage everywhere,

Cuz you're "...farre of, with others all too neere".