The grass grew virtually overnight; the Buttercups <br />so tall they spilled their beauty on the lawn <br />I have fallen behind in my everyday chores and duties; <br />the mower quit working and is demanding a raise. <br />I couldn’t provide it with one; as I too have not been paid. <br />What the hell, I’m just sitting here on a Sunday, <br />trying to put off today what I can get done on Monday. <br />Reclining in my favorite deck chair, sunning my cancers; <br />admiring God’s work in the world. Such beautiful plush clouds; <br />the fruit trees in blossom and the birds singing to their young, <br />while mankind’s contributions crumble all about me <br />and the mower holds the gas can in utter contempt. <br /> <br />2008 © T Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-beautiful-day-7/
