A Quiet Time Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

The fragrance of banana bread coming from downstairs
Fills my imagination with desires of food
On this quiet Sunday afternoon
I'll try to get a nap in before dinner
But the hunger pains are interrupting my sleep
I stare at the shelves of stuffed animals
With cobwebs intwining them
And wonder how amazing a worker
The spider is
I should dust those shelves
But I have no desire to do anything
Not even poetry
I want to take a break and relax
For it's the Lord's Day
But even the Lord worked on Sundays
I had to get the bed sheets ready
For a dry night's rest
But inspiration has shown its face again
And I am typing away my desire to close my eyes
And float into space
Between reality and falsehood
As it's discipline that is an excuse