I daydream nearly all the time!
But is that really such a crime?
When in the shower a thought appears,
Just as I'm washing behind my ears,
Cleanliness takes second place;
I shower at a slower pace;
I end up only half-way clean
But feeling hopeful and serene,
For I have cured so many ills,
And I've 'danced among the daffodils'.
Going shopping, I'm inefficient,
My attitude is quite deficient!
I toddle along with my little trolly,
Sometimes, maybe, I'm melancholy;
But in the very nicest way,
Maybe humming 'Yesterday'.
Instead of working out a plan
Concerning a pie or tomorrow's flan,
I am, instead, engrossed in thought
But not of a simple shopping sort!
I'm dreaming dreams and writing stuff!
Who cares if the meat I buy is tough?
I've cured the ills of the world, you know,
Merely toddling to and fro!
I've written novels in my mind,
Of a very deep and cryptic kind.
I've daydreamed about each passer-by;
Is this one brash? Is that one shy?
I'm writing, analysing, scheming.
Never call it 'just daydreaming!'