So many things I almost did,
So many roads I almost took,
Then something, someone came along
To save me from myself.
I think of the almost times
When I almost said something hurtful
and risked losing a friend,
When I walked into the road without looking
and almost got knocked down,
When I almost went out and left the milk pan boiling
Or the lights blazing or the tap running,
Luck – or my guardian angel –
held me back from the brink and all the things I almost did.
Today I want to be extravagant
To do, to be, to experience something extra
something outside my usual dull round
Of daily dreary activities
Meaningless actions, getting nowhere, achieving nothing.
Today I will break free
And for once be extravagant.
Wandering outside my comfort zone
Trying new things, exploring new possibilities.
But what shall I do?
I know, I’ll buy a cream meringue and eat it with a double cappuccino!
Sounds good. (I knew it would!) My muse is dead, that’s what I said. I’ve lost the urge to splurge on verse and, worse than that, my prose is flat, dull as a lake. No breeze to shake the surface stillness. Is this an illness that I can shake off like a sneeze or a cough or final and fatal and from this date I’ll write no more, write but to bore? I won’t entertain it, can’t explain it, But I just know It can’t be so!
I’ve time to spare. to do and dare I’ve time to share With friends.
I brush my hair What shall I wear? the forecast’s fair “Begone dull care” The Bard once said. Depends if weight of care can bring despair so I don’t dare to leave my lair or climb the stair to reach the rainbow’s end.
I yearn to be I’ll learn to be Completely totally CAREFREE!