Seat Sunday (2016-07-17)

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry /Humour /Tale

“I don’t want to be a passenger sitting on the bench not doing much, even in my older years” Frank Lampard

Seat Sunday

I have followed the yellow brick road
And it led me to this humble abode
Surrounded by a picket fence
And a green grass oh so dense

Now I am stationed here for all eternity
The yellow bricks stacked behind me
Grass growing tall, reaching to infinity
The inhabitants enjoying me occasionally

Maybe this is the place I will settle
And every day brew me tea in a kettle
I may be made out of wood and metal
But I can be quite sentimental

I am a special bench
Possibly made by the French
Sometimes in the drain I drench
Still, I am quite the mensch 😉

seat-sunday

Under the Tree for Seat Sunday

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry /Humour

“A chair fit for a Queen and other Ladies too” Gun Roswell

Under the Tree for Seat Sunday

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“Ah, a cool summer’s breeze
I am possibly ready to sneeze
Better sit down on the bench!”

Said the little old wench
As she tightly held her thighs in a clench

Because that damned sneezing
Made her always queasy
And possibly a little uneasy
As to what might start to trickle
She started to giggle

“Oh, hurry up you old fool
And quickly sit down on that damned stool!”

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A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday: Four

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

“I have no plans to rock myself to sleep in my bath chair yet” Bruce Forsyth

Modern Times

Oh, how time flies
In front of our very eyes
Running around makes none the wise
So, just take a seat, relax, fill your supplies
There is no resistance
For these modern times

modern-times

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday: Three

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

“I have no plans to rock myself to sleep in my bath chair yet” Bruce Forsyth

Waiting

Important meeting to decide one’s fate?
Maybe a secret hideaway, for a coffee date?
Watching, waiting, by the gate
Why, oh why is my destiny late?

waiting

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday: Two

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

“I have no plans to rock myself to sleep in my bath chair yet” Bruce Forsyth

Empty Seats

Finally, the storm has passed
The remaining overcast
Will not for long last
Moving on, is our goal
After all, it is good for our soul
And faster and faster, we stroll

empty-seats

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday: One

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

“I have no plans to rock myself to sleep in my bath chair yet” Bruce Forsyth

When it Rains…

When it rains, it possibly pours
How to find a shelter outdoors?
Behold, a wonderful escape
In a shape of a cafe
By the beautiful Esplanade
Soon, sitting, coffee enjoying
Carefully watching
Life and passersby flowing
And the sunshine washing
The rainy clouds away

restaurant-seats2

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography /Poetry

“I have no plans to rock myself to sleep in my bath chair yet” Bruce Forsyth

A Seat at the Restaurant for Seat Sunday

restaurant-seats

Night on the Bench

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography and Poetry

halloween-bench-3

“I must go in. The fog is rising” EMILY ELIZABETH DICKINSON

Night on the Bench

Surrounded by misty air
Missed the last fare
Sitting on the park bench
Wishing I had worn a trench
The eerie surroundings
Leaving my heart pounding
Not a soul in sight
On this mystical night
Wrapping my coat tighter
My mood getting lighter
I hear some noises
A car approaches
Finally, I have a ride!

halloween-bench-3

A Bench to Sit on

Posted in Seat Sunday
Photography and Poetry

2b
“I don’t generally like running. I believe in training by rising gently up and down from the bench” Satchel Paige

A Bench to Sit on

I was looking for
A bench to sit on
What I hoped to score
Something close to a lawn
To lay my tired self
On a softer shelf

Then I saw it
The bench, made of stone
When I tried to sit
I felt it to my bones
Too hard for a fit!

Moving forward
I found one, made of wood
Maybe it wasn’t hard
Rather suitably good
Too soft for a fit!

So once again
I had to complain
But I knew, the right seat
Was just in reach
I just had to seek

A little while longer
As I moved along
The feeling now stronger
I knew it wouldn’t be long
I was close to finding
As I saw the metal shining

I finally found it
A bench made of metal
For me to sit
Soft as a petal
A purr-fect fit

2b

 

Painted Red (Bench/Seat Sunday)

Posted in Bench/Seat Sunday
Poetry & Photography

red-bench-3

“The judge told me to approach the bench. We were in a park”Jarod Kintz,

Painted Red

The only bright spot
In the entire parking lot
In the midst of suburbia
Causing a minor hysteria
The colour of reddest red
Some say, it joy may spread

Carefully trying to sit
Just to see, if it is a fit
After I little while
I started to smile
The colour seemed to be
A perfect choice for me

And soon enough…
As far as the eye could see
All the red painted seats
Were occupied to the extreme

There is something to be said
Of the colour red
It never leaves you cold
Yes, and I too was sold

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