There is a time

You have to get out of the orange armchair

No matter how comfortable your bottom feels.

It’ll be grand to stand up and move away from the Masters

Maybe it’s time for tea or another glass of Bordeaux

At least the exercise will help you decide

Whether another square of mint chocolate is worth the taste

Doubts are common, uncertainties rife

There’s no guarantee you’ll be more comfortable over a boiling kettle.

A black cat wants attention as he scratches behind my head

Puma’s food is in the room with the washing machine and screwdrivers

The dog looks asleep, breathing like a metronome. He’s easy to watch.

Louis hasn’t had a run all day. I wonder how he’ll be in the morning.

There’s no time to count, no seconds to add or subtract

There’s time to be negotiated, time to dwell on how the odds are stacked.