It is a lazy eyes-closed restful day,
A day for lounging in your underwear;
The air is not quite warm, no longer grey:
So beautiful to look at, but take care
That you don't move into it. Let it be,
And watch the sunlight play upon the floor,
Or feel it wash across your face and see
Only the purple spots and nothing more
With eyes closed to the waiting world outside.
Put kettles on, and listen for their scream,
Prop up your feet and let the world slip by.
Let everything be hazy as a dream;
On days like this, you hardly have to try
To be content: it soaks into your skin
If you will let it. Rest, now, and begin.
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