Recliner

I leave my will under the covers,
beneath the quilt, and percale sheet.
The gym is calling me to rise,
to go and exercise,
yet in my bed I’m cozy head to feet.

I do not want to see the treadmill;
I’m more content to stay abed.
I might sustain a bruise to shin,
or see the shape I’m in,
so I’ll stay here and lie while I’m ahead.

I need to rest my aching muscles;
my ligaments deserve a break.
Beyond a universal gym,
or a refreshing swim,
it’s better to relax while I’m awake.

I think there may be too much traffic;
the roads can be a source of woe.
I can lie here and navigate,
and in my bed await,
until the surge of auto flow is slow.

The spirit wills, but Will is sleeping,
and with each Z he finds content.
So I will lie along with him,
ignoring thoughts of gym,
and as I lie pretend I up and went.


25 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
January 22, 2014