Monday BlunderlandAs I awoke to the sound of my alarm, I look at my clock – and scream! Now, I’ve never been taken in by morning’s charm, I much prefer night with perchance to dream. But on this morning, on this date, As I stare, digital numbers glaring at me. I realize that I’m late, I’m late, With no time even for a cup of Irish tea. My clock it seems jumped out of hand, As out of bed jumped me, myself, and I. I felt like I’d entered into Blunderland, My clock was an hour long with no reason why. As I rushed through my broken daybreak, I knew I’d be late to work, there was no other way, I questioned how my clock could forsake, When suddenly, it was explained in a word – Monday! ©Donna M. Monnig Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write an aubade, which is essentially a morning poem dealing with dawn and/or daybreak. Also, the prompt suggested making it into a Monday poem seeing as it’s Monday. (This is a mostly true story by the way!) What’s your best (or worst) Monday story?