Tock

The doc listens,
tick tock,

to a pulse drown
by a ticking clock.

Chilly feet
and winter humours

warmed on boxes,
with embers blooming,

toasty warm, burning peat
heating old oak stoofjes*.

.

.

*Stoofjes were portable, small boxes carried around by woman in which peat or charcoal was burnt to keep their feet warmed. The small box shown at the bottom left corner is a stoffje, and shows a ribbon of smoke coming from it.

Magpie Tales Poetry, prompt 138-   http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/mag-138.html

About these ads

2 thoughts on “Tock

Your comments are very much welcome!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s