Someday I’ll get the chance to rock
And read those books still on my list
This steady pace of tick-and-tock
Slips quietly into the mist
And I, wearied within its leap
Climb into bed, my book in hand
But oh, alas, three pages deep
And I am off to slumber-land
Someday I’ll get a chance to write
Those words that evade me of yet
Or come to me within the night
And in the morning I forget
And someday I will organize
Those scattered thoughts within my mind
Instead of shoes and laundry piles
And tasks shaping the daily grind
Someday, too close to me, I fear
My moments won’t include the fuss
Of teen-age angst on what to wear
Or school-girl waving from the bus
Someday the noise of boys and toys
Will slip to sudden quietness
This kaleidoscope of moment-joys
Rotating where echoes caress
Someday, but oh, not now, not yet
The books upon the shelf will keep
Tonight when I climb into bed
I am so glad that I can sleep
The luxury of mundane toil
Startles with raw and fresh appeal
And I must tend its precious spoil
Which even now life’s moments steal
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!