I’ve been away, with my new job;
After all, gotta earn a bob.
No time left for Ode’s to flow
as up at 6 and to work I go.
Now days it’s just the daily grind;
the daily chore that numbs the mind.
At least this job’s got room to grow
and let some creativity flow.
Not rhyming words that speak my mind
but building things for my own kind
in the hope that by being there
I can add a tiny touch of care.
So though for now it is adieu
I will come back and visit you.
While we must work to pay our way,
that’s not our home at end of day.
For home is where the heart doth lie;
mine’s poems, trees and clear blue sky.
Doin’ Stuff stuff