Beglummed

Beglummed

Wheels turning axle deep
driving in a dank November
all my blessings try to keep
begging me to just remember
champagne bubbles yet to come
but still I'm stuckly bleak beglummed

Tired perhaps and missing motive
driving slowly in the dark
cars behind are cross and restive
hoot when finally I park
Christmas presents yet to come
but I'm stuck and deep beglummed