The Ladies of the Office Wear Black

March 11, 2013

As a little background – my friend and colleague has had his leg in a cast and has been spending most of his time in our office with it up on a spare chair. Now that his leg is finally healing, we are all missing him being around and it was suggested I write a poem. So here it is.

The Ladies of the Office Wear Black

 

Is it wrong to weep so as he walks

Atop granite and corridor laminate?

To watch the office chair spin empty

Without falling over and grabbing  it?

 

The ladies of the office wear black.

They are mourning until he comes back.

 

Am I stupid to feel hurt every morning

That my desk is less cluttered and clean?

To actually put things in his pigeon hole or e-mail

Rather than handing it straight to him?

 

The ladies of the office wear black.

They are mourning until he comes back.

 

When I phone and it goes straight to voicemail

When the coffee I make goes un-drunk

When the form captains all come a-searching

When that groove in his chair comes un-sunk

 

They can ask at my desk (and they will)

“But where is Mugglestone? Where has he gone?”

And I must have the strength to reach out –

“He has wings now, boys – he has flown”

 

The ladies of the office wear black.

They are mourning until

That moment, that thrill –

When he falls over again and comes back.

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