A lazy Sunday afternoon
Was not what I intended,
But after work, I closed my eyes,
And woke when day was ended.
With such a lot I ought to do,
From paperwork to cleaning,
I thought I’d read through coffee break
To give the hours meaning.
The Small Dog must have worried
And to make sense of the puzzle,
Woke me by whiskering my face
And going mouth to muzzle.
She plonked the ball down on my chest
To make sure I was waking,
I roused myself and groaned a bit
At all the places aching.
I threw the ball and shook the dreams
From sleep I must have needed…
The battle to stay wakeful
Had been lost, I had conceded.
But all the things I should have done
And not done, to my sorrow,
Don’t really matter much at all,
They’ll still be there tomorrow.