There’s No Time Like The Present

There’s no time like the present

Present means gift

It’s now or never, it’s here somehow

But it always goes adrift

The gift of where we are right now

Is staring us in the face

Right where we stand, this second

Right here, in this place

Well…it was here a second ago

But now it’s out of date

Oh, hang on, it’s coming up again…

All we have to do is wait

Ah, but now it’s the future

And still it won’t last

And as I’ve been writing

It’s become the past

Live in the present

Because it’s gone

In the blink of an eye

There are many presents to open

Many ribbons to untie

See how precious it is

Like a jewelled crown

It’s like a butterfly

Except it can’t be pinned down

So enjoy this moment, this hour, this day

And keep your presence

Close to the present

Before it flies away.

March To The Beat Of Your Own Drum

The orchestra will try to make you

Change your tune

You don’t have to keep in time

Or even be heard

Above the cacophony

As long as you hear your own music

Feel the rhythm

Love the style

And enjoy the way

It makes you feel

The artistic director may try to

Turn you around

Conduct you

And make you toe the line

Find musicians more to your liking

Ones that share the same tempo

And can keep in time to your beat

As you keep in time with theirs

And let you do a solo now and then

Make and play the sort of music

That allows you to change key

Without warning

It has to be that way

Or, all your life

You’ll be out of tune.

It Started Out Like Any Other Day

It started out

With the same theme

Like any other day

Old routine

Long time

Stuck in the sack

They’re having fun

I’m out of whack

While cocooned

Had strange dreams

Chewing leaves

Anything green

I was running away

From a bird on my case

Dived into undergrowth

To get it out of my face

Ate my way through

The neighbours hedge

Flower patch

Gouged on veg

Addicted to grass

Tried to ease

Desperate craving

For garden peas

Exhausted then

Fell asleep

Hairy legs

Belly deep

The neighbourhood cried

Here comes trouble

I yawned and stretched

And burst from the bubble

It started out

With the same theme

Like any other day

Old routine

But life became

A permanent high

When I emerged

A butterfly.