What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
A poor life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
by WIlliam Henry Davies 1871-1940
This is the poem that inspired my previous untitled poem.
Enjoy it all you workholics out there and remember to smile at the songs of tree rustles in the morning.
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