Something Different: A Poem

And I break radio silence to bring you this poem. Weird for me, I know, but it's been one of those weeks.

My Broken Calendar 

I woke this morning and noticed the hour 

And it was then I realized with a mood most sour

That somehow my calendar had skipped a few days

And huge blocks of time have been completely erased

It was only yesterday, you see, that winter begun

But today there is rising a late summer sun

So where, oh where did the missing time go?

On holiday perhaps, or maybe a show?

Or perhaps the days simply weren't included

In the calendar when its publishing concluded

Maybe for April or May I was supposed to pay more

or to avoid interruption, pay a full season before

Or maybe inflation has levied the summer

And shortened the season with no hope to recover

My springs are shrinking as well as my falls

And as for my winters, there's no hope at all

Someone is stealing the time from my clocks

Perhaps in league with the gremlins who steal all my socks

From the dryer. If so, forgive me for being crude

But if they are in cahoots then I'm royally screwed

For I have yet to find a single stitch of heel or toe 

Of any of the socks that a-missing go

So if these same gremlins are stealing my days

I must put an end to their thieving craze

But how is the question I find I now ask.

How does one take sneaky gremlins to task?

How does one stop these thieves so subtle in crime

When to hunt where they hide takes a great deal of time?

Time I don't have for September is waning

And so I guess I should cease my bitter complaining

But I urge you, dear reader, when a new calender you seek

Please make sure it is not missing a single week