Dreamer: Caught on Irritability

“Have some writing to do,”
That’s what I said
To one of those people,
You know the ones,
Don’t you?

Who chatter ceaselessly
And it’s all about them,
Nothing substantial,
Perhaps only blowing wind,

What does he want?
I confess,
I was too tired to request,
Too busy to pursue,

If he’d give me a hand,
Perhaps we’d have time for two
But even then,
Idle blab gets old,

Like the incessant chirping
Of a sparrow,
Even that gets on my nerves,
In this frame of mind,

In which case,
Maybe that’s it,
Just overtiredness
And need some pick-me-up.

Whatever is required,
Sure hope it’s located soon,
It’s well past afternoon
And not ending;

Have to pull out the patience
And rummage through the mind,
For some sense of humour
To lighten the gloom.