Ode to Jet Lag
Though I thought Sunday had seen the last of my jet lag, it appears to have crept back last night. There was nothing to do but read Sonnet 152, and write one of my own -- so here it is:
I mistook you for gone, but ho! Hello!
My eye awakes at raw clock’s one-nineteen.
There’s not much at this time -- the world’s mellow --
to do but stare at my computer screen.
My friends in USA do wake, ‘tis true,
but them, it seems, for now, I must forget.
For lacking rhyme and rhythm, height and hue,
I also have no wireless internet.
So back it is for me to the old ways:
before you, Jet Lag, I farewell may bid,
I rummage through my bag, on Shakespeare gaze,
and also through the writings of Ovid.
But now, with this poem writ and these books read,
away you go, and I back to my bed.
I mistook you for gone, but ho! Hello!
My eye awakes at raw clock’s one-nineteen.
There’s not much at this time -- the world’s mellow --
to do but stare at my computer screen.
My friends in USA do wake, ‘tis true,
but them, it seems, for now, I must forget.
For lacking rhyme and rhythm, height and hue,
I also have no wireless internet.
So back it is for me to the old ways:
before you, Jet Lag, I farewell may bid,
I rummage through my bag, on Shakespeare gaze,
and also through the writings of Ovid.
But now, with this poem writ and these books read,
away you go, and I back to my bed.
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