SLEEPY MONDAYS

Some Mondays
are a little hard for me.
I start my day too slow.

Mom stands at my doorway
and urges me to 
GO.   GO.   GO.

I want to turn over
and sleep some more.
But Mom, she will not wait.

She says if I don't
put a wiggle on
I surely will be late.



     All of us are late at sometime.  I remember when I transitioned from elementary school to Junior High and we got a lecture on being tardy and the consequences of three tardies in one grading period.  Do you remember the March Hare from Alice in Wonderland rushing around saying "I'm late.  I'm late."  The author Lewis Carroll was a math tutor at Christ Church College in Oxford, England.  At midnight the bells would start chiming in the bell tower. (This was before the time of wrist watches and cell phones with alarms.)  The students could hear the bells from anywhere in the town.  It meant they needed to get back to their rooms.  If a student wasn't back inside the gates of the college by the end of the 100th chime, the gates were locked and the student was locked out for the night. (And probably had to sleep on the streets.)   So your challenge for today is to write a poem about being late.  Have fun.  And if you are late in writing this poem, that is OK, I won't throw you out in the street.  Have fun.