26 October – Faulty alarm clock

Don’t rely on my local rooster
for your early morning alarm call,
unless you have no intention
of keeping any appointments at all.
He can hardly be bothered to crow
until at least half past eleven,
I can only presume he’s still sleeping
when he’d be most useful at seven.
I call him the teenage cockerel
for his lie-ins last legendarily long,
and when he does deign to cock-a-doodle,
it’s a reluctant, embarrassed type of song.
Perhaps he’ll grow into his calling,
piercing the dawn with his squawking cries,
then of course I’ll regret my complaints
and despairingly roll my eyes.
I’ll wish for the halcyon days
when the village could snooze on in peace.
Alas! The bird never wins –
there’s no conquering my caprice.

26 October - Faulty alarm clock