Paul S. Gifford

DELIGHTFUL

How delightful it is to sit in my garden
on the grass on this sunny April morn,
With birds around, gaily serenading,
as I work hard at getting nothing done.
I should surely be writing,
or laundering some clothes.
The upstairs needs vacuuming,
yet again – I suppose.
I could be dusting the ceiling,
and mopping the floors,
there is, please appreciate,
no end to the chores.
I could be making a meatloaf
or perhaps baking a cake.
But all of my to-do list,
for one day I’ll forsake.
For as I sit quietly here,
I will just contemplate.
And all the things I simply must do,
Well, they simply must wait.
My two dogs are slumbering
dutifully by my side.
Their philosophical shrewdness
well-it fills me with pride.
They don’t worry about if-onlys,
or the what, whys or when…
They live right in the now,
I’ve learnt so much from them!

No today I’ll do a whole lot of nothing,
with the glaring exception of this!
For I felt the urge to dutifully pass on,
this sublime lazy moment of bliss.