Sarah's writing journal

It seems like another lifetime ago, but at the beginning of the year, I posted this picture of my writing room - undergoing construction - and despaired of it ever being habitable again. Well, now I'm back home and it's wonderful. I fell in love with this second-hand desk, which arrived about ten days ago and is where I write very happily, if messily, now (and yes, that is a disco ball above my laptop):
I think I'm going to have some fun too. The first thing I did when I set my desk up, was to write it a poem - to settle both it and me in our new home - and this is what came up, completely out of the blue. Let's face it, my new desk is very definitely a minx!!

It's when they're not watching, I do it.
A thin biscuit slipped from my top drawer,
nibbling round the edges, my eyes fixed
on his, and that's all it'll take. He waits
for the crumb falling on to my bottom lip,
the one I'll put my finger up, my ring
finger up, to brush away, and he shakes,
shakes like a lamb being led to slaughter.
Round and round, the biscuit will turn,
biting towards the centre, until it's gone,
and he's released, until the next time.
I'll shut the drawer, get back to work,
as if nothing has happened, just how
it never does, not when they're watching.