Friday, January 27, 2017

Ringing Phone--By Jan Oskar Hansen--Portugal

Ringing Phone

It is a perfectly quiet winter day I listen to distant noise
a dog barks -can`t avoid that in Algarve- smoke from chimneys
goes straight up before disbursing and disappearing.
A few clouds drifts about like wedding dresses of the unmarried
the sun is a golden coin captain Hook would kill for.
I smell grilled sardines, the opening and closing of doors and
a cat sits on a wall watching me.

I sternly tell myself to go for a walk before it gets afternoon and
cold again, but I blithely ignore the voice. I feel so wonderfully
lazy. I drift on a cloud of slothful bliss then the phone rings when
I answer a voice tells me it was a wrong number.

Jan Oskar Hansen is a published poet from Portugal.


  1. Dear Jan,
    This poem is unique! I especially like your innovative simile, "clouds drift about like wedding dresses."
    Thank you,

  2. Hi Jan, I love your poem, it is wonderful! I enjoyed every bit of it. Thank you.


  3. I love this typical of life writing Jan. The phone ringing always
    spoils our pleasent thoughts, but being a wrong number erases any hope of return to pleasantry.