This poem I wrote as a challenge on another platform using the words in bold.
Sleep walking through the darkness
Like a zombie to catch the train
The waft of coffee fills my nose
And from the tip of it drips the rain
The clock reads 7.15 am
Time for the busker to play his guitar
He strums his strings and sings along
Working through his repertoire
I flick the coin of gold
His tip bottle clinks as my aim is true
He raises his head, smiles and says
‘Any special requests for you?’
syd7t5 