To climb, grip harder so as
Not to fall away. Pile on!
Lift and carry, Pilgrim!
Strain tendons, will,
Credulity: can I
Do all this?
Clean ALL the things?
Be the best of me
Again?
So tired, I beg
Overload to fall away, be
Gone! Leave me!
But then I find just
One more thing.
Honey-do list falls to me,
The list I wrote, to finish
Trails into oblivion!
Each hurdle daunts, derides:
Amelia flies and Orly shies and
Cornbread bakes and I've applied
Myself and won, directing Nana's
Silly play and books are on their
Way and I elect my own condition:
Never dull and never finished, but
Tired, oh so tired today!