All the jobs are done, nothing else to fix.
I’ll order up an extra case of red,
And stay another hour in bed.
Soil’s too soggy to dig or feed,
And unless it’s fine I can’t weed.
Writing and painting - I can do that,
And yell at the telly, or talk to the cat!
No visitors allowed is Daniel’s plea.
Without technology, where would I be?
My hair is growing out of control -
Might have to get out the mixing bowl.
Let’s hope the idiots stay inside
And to the rules they do abide.
Creative Writing 2021