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Saturday Morning
At work we wait for work to end
To give us time to rest and mend
‘Put your feet up’, ‘relax’ and ‘chill’
Which is well and good, until—
Work is really over.
“What now?” you think, sitting up
And noticing the cup of tea
Perched on the bedside cabinet
Yawning, stretching, blinking eyes
Strain to see what lies beneath
The mystery of unkempt clothes
That haven’t been washed since– God knows!
The duvet which just yesterday
Was more comfy than words can say
Is now a trap, your resting prison
To be released is your mission!
Outside, the world keeps turning
Whilst inside you are quickly learning
That thought and action are not the same
The mind is willing, the body lame.
Stay like this and life will pass you by
In the bleary blink of a tired eye
So up you rise, and here we go!
But wait—
Limbs of lead drag you down
The duvet pulls and now, you’re back
“I could get out of bed” you muse
But perhaps I’ll stay and snooze instead.
