I'D Rather Write

I'd rather write a poem, Lord, Than mow the lawn today, As mowing grass I'd soon be bored And choose to walk away... That wall needs painting, yes, I know, Another month won't hurt, I'd rather write and watch words flow Than paint and hide the dirt... I'd rather write a poem, Lord, Than tidy up that room, A tidy room's a poor reward Compared with words that bloom... That pile of clothes I'll get round to, No pressure, they can wait, I'd rather write my point of view, As my views are first rate... I'd rather write a poem, Lord, Than wash the car outside, It's not a Rolls, it's just a Ford, With scratches dust can hide... That stack of dishes, won't complain, No rush to stand, wipe, stir, I'd rather write my thoughts again Before they melt and blur... I'd rather write a poem, Lord, Than shop for milk and bread, Black coffee's okay, rest assured, I'll give up toast instead... I'll see my girlfriend, next week, soon, Tomorrow or tonight... I'd rather write this afternoon, Please, Lord, if that's all right... Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2012.