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Clearing the day, clearing my mind.
I'll report back with what I might find.
Bookface and Twatter and all of their kind,
TV and wireless, for once, left behind.
Obligations are few – be true to yourself.
Christ! This kind of freedom is bad for your health.
My mind is free and able to roam,
Any surprise then it's scared to leave home?
The day stretches ahead, one's time is one's own.
I'm calling Samaritans – pass me the phone.
I have the time; I stand and I stare.
To be afforded such leisure hardly seems fair.
But the pressure is great, no deep thoughts come
As nervously I resort to sucking my thumb.
A rare find, then, this day undesigned,
Seek pleasures simple, a joy unconfined.
I don't think it's working; shoulders hunched – tension!
Must give more thought to my index-linked pension.
So take a step back, look without and within.
Who are you really? It's time to begin...
Away you go then on this reflective spree.
Stare by all means but look kindly on me.
A response to Leisure a poem by W. H. Davies. You know the one...
“What is this life if, full of care?
We have no time to stand and stare”