The house is quiet and the pets at ease.
The yard awaits, says “mow me please”.
But I’ve things to think and words to rhyme,
because love comes first all of the time.
The grass can wait and those dishes too.
There’s much to do and hours so few.
So busy I’ll be in La-La land,
love in my heart and pencil in hand.
I’ll pen her poetry of love, joy and bliss,
recalling how quick was our one millionth kiss.
I’ll wax poetic and melt in her arms,
though her hotness not needed, just her charms.
I’ll say “I love you” in every possible way.
And I’ll say it often every single day,
but words meaningless when actions speak.
So I’ll finish this poem and start my week.
The holiday’s upon us, still there’s much to do.
Decorations aren’t yet finished, more presents needed too.
Christmas cards must be sent; first I’ll need a list.
I’ve mistletoe to hang, hoping to be kissed.
I’ll skip the wreath this year, unless I find one cheap.
Maybe I’ll get plastic, something I can keep.
There’ll be no fancy paper, tied with ribbons and bows.
The wrap doesn’t matter; it’s the thought that truly shows.
The weather is quite nice, I think today’s the day.
I’ll finish all my shopping; make more bills I can’t pay.
Oh! And yes I need a tree, how could I forget.
I’d feel really silly and I’d lose another bet.
I feel a storm a brewin’
And thoughts, they are a stewin’
Seems procrastination ain’t so great
Time it seems just won’t wait
Youthful dreamin’ put on hold
Earnin’s first, I’ve been told
While the future does still beckon
It’s path though I’ve yet to reckon
But my guitar needs a playin’
And my hips need a swayin’
My pencil needs more dancin’
And of course there’s more romancin’
So much to do, so little time left to waste
Ponderin’s ahead, no need for haste
I am after all a master procrastinator
So I’ll get old, but just a little bit later
Reservation and hesitation,
a parting of heart and mind,
remaining only consolation,
as our instincts have defined.
Procrastination: A story that’s never finished
Happiness: Seeking perfection and excepting half
Writing: Search for good words unused
Computers: Infinite possible distractions distracting infinitely
Passion: Life, self and love consumed