Sunday Afternoon

Snatches of music, the TV is on,
Unfamiliar voices,
A man and woman, talking in turn,
Taking turns,
Canned laughter,
My wife joins in,
Applause.

The front door rattles,
Footsteps in the hall
My wife talks to the kids,
Echoing,
Indistinct,
The kids reply.

The cat demands food,
Persistently, insistently,
Then scrabbling,
Claws on a wooden floor,
Children's laughter,
Then more meowing.

The cathedral clock chimes,
Quarter to the hour,
The kitchen clock ticks,
The cat purrs,
The children coo and laugh,
The sounds of Sunday afternoon.

©️ Graeme Williams 2019

"Sunday Afternoon" came about as another Futurelearn assignment in which we used our immediate environment as a source of material. It was suggested that we watch and describe what was around us. I decided to use what I could hear rather than what I could see so, in some ways, it almost became an exercise in mindfulness.

I've altered the order of the lines so that it flows better; the original list was a random collection of sounds as I became aware of them. Now it almost tells a story.

The Night Belongs To Cats

Most revellers have long since fled,
And I, alone, am out of bed,
Walking the streets so still and dead,
The night belongs to cats.

See lordly Toms on high survey,
Nocturnal realms where they hold sway,
While others go in search of prey,
The night belongs to cats.

As mournful yowls fragment the night,
And deep in shadow, eyes shine bright,
I wander where I have no right,
This night belongs to cats.

© Graeme Williams 2012



The ACEO is a picture painted by my wife, Chris, specifically for this poem. If you want to check out more of her work you can find it under her facebook page at  Artistic Originals.