OK, I’m getting into the swing of 14 lines every couple of days. Here’s my second attempt for the month:
Sonnet 2: At the check-out
I know she has to smile and greet me.
I’ve seen the instructions on her till.
Still, rather that than have her beat me,
cheat me, treat me like a dill.
We meet each other almost daily,
greet each other almost gaily.
Who cares if warmth comes à la carte
from a Woolworths-managed heart?
I trailed along with Mummy shopping
in another world: ‘Hello,
Mr See Yick. How’s your toe?’
‘Oh Mrs Shaw, you’ve seen me hopping …’
Some days would not be nice, they knew,
but with some help they’d see them through.