A poem in praise of routine

Hols are great,

you get to escape.

In a week of bliss,

all stress is at bay.

But unease seeps into dreams

that taunt and hunt,

Those easy-gone days

are just a front

for darker matter

that needs a straitjacket.

Give me routine,

the thrust and grind

of everyday life.

Some peace of mind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s