Boredom and Disorder*

I am bored
With this six week summer vacation
An open-ended stretch of weeks
With way more troughs than actual peeks,
What with everyone else I know
Having jobs where they choose when not to go:
A day off here, a morning there,
At times of rest when in need of self-care.
Reaping the benefits of cut price offers
In absolute preference to raiding the coffers,
Just for a few nights not far from home,
The costs exponential the further we roam…
The factoring in of a flight or two
No longer something we choose to do:
All those hours waiting with only hand-baggage
Too much of a compromise- I needs my luggage!!
So, this year, boarding the four-wheeled chariot
We’re heading to a rural beauty spot:
Peace and quiet, no discos or bars,
No territory-marking or beach-brolly wars(!).
And yes, I’ve already started to pack
Though at least more than half will probably go back,
But still, it helps to pass the hours
Between window-shopping and playing with flowers
(Strictly speaking, more ‘playing with dirt’
Worried too much about what I might hurt-
The creepies and crawlies and many-legged beasties
Working very hard and keeping their peaces,
Captivating my roving eye
With all they build and how hard they try-
From threads of silk through piles of dirt
Carefully assembled so nothing gets hurt,
Each inclined to protect their own
In the most utilitarian of bespoke homes.
Inspired by their capacity
For architectural tenacity
It’s time to for me to take my turn
And exercise the stuff I learned
From my mother’s ceaseless toil
To hone order from turmoil,
A skill (if you can call it that)
That keeps the domestic landscape
Relatively flat…
Excepting the not-unfamiliar piles
That represent Sisyphean travails,
These simple reminders of ‘work in progress’
Otherwise described as an absolute mess:
A metaphorical hamster wheel
With a certain sculptural appeal,
An esoteric method, I am aware
-But I know it’s definitely in there somewhere…


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