Poem- waiting rooms another from my Mum

Waiting Rooms

Hospital waiting room - brown and creams;
Nothing here to raise our dreams.
The air is filled with a thousand fears,
The room damp from a million tears.
Even now it feeds on my sorrow;
It’ll claim it as its own, tomorrow.
The clock face looks down from the wall.
Tales of woe? It’s heard them all.

The maternity end and the room is lighter;
The colours here are vibrant, brighter.
The air is filled with hope and joy -
The room echoes to shouts of girl! or boy!
The clock face here is full of fun;
Its colours reflect the golden sun.
As it steadily counts minutes and hours.
It looks down on a room filled with flowers.

As the two clocks tick in unison
We move on in life from room to room
Alarm clocks to see us start the day
School clocks to signal the end of play
Our lives always watched by a ticking face
They count off our seconds and set our pace.
Our heart beats counted by the sweeping hand,
And our lives trickle on like the hourglass sand.

Sept. 05