Working On a Saturday Afternoon


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Working on a Saturday afternoon,
Like a monk praying in his tomb,
I close my eyes , trying to wonder,
Nestled, comfortably like a child,
in its mother’s womb

The peace of this place, leaves its trace,
as the server on my desk silently prays,
The quiet, aptly objectifying my thoughts,
wandering aimlessly on unknown lanes

A cup of coffee on my desk, she sits,
I tease her, caress her with my finger tips
She stays calm,
as I wrap around her waist my palm,
pick her up and lovingly plant a kiss

The half eaten sandwich, lay forgotten
A witness to the romance,
its expression tautened
Spiteful and jealous of the coffee’s fate
Rejected, it falls back to its plate

The computer screen stares blankly
Unsure, it blinks, and blushes shyly
Patiently she waits,
for me to resume my work
and snoozes off slyly, when I don’t

It is time to go home now,
as the sun goes down behind the horizon,
I turn my back at the computer screen,
With a promise to be back on Monday,
and lovingly turn her on