When first the day stretched long and clean and new,
And I attacked the piles upon my desk,
As I tried hard not to succumb to stress,
Then treasured I the time I had to use.
But as the day wore on and things got done,
The hours and the minutes seemed to slow.
So until time itself has seemed to grow
Inspired by a lazy, warm spring sun.
The birds outside are quiet, not a peep;
The bees and flies are not around as much.
Nature herself has seen that this is such
A perfect afternoon on which to sleep.
And yet I'm here, with numbers yet to add;
The slowness of the day just makes me mad.
And I attacked the piles upon my desk,
As I tried hard not to succumb to stress,
Then treasured I the time I had to use.
But as the day wore on and things got done,
The hours and the minutes seemed to slow.
So until time itself has seemed to grow
Inspired by a lazy, warm spring sun.
The birds outside are quiet, not a peep;
The bees and flies are not around as much.
Nature herself has seen that this is such
A perfect afternoon on which to sleep.
And yet I'm here, with numbers yet to add;
The slowness of the day just makes me mad.
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