Idleness;
A business on it’s own.
Nothing is being done
Thousand things in thought,
Yet the brain isn’t dumb.
Ideas trip in one after one,
 |
| *Idleness and inaction are risky compliments. |
But none is deemed fit
Till considerable time is gone.
Before the brain will tilt
And something next be done
In the “hurry – hurry” way.
Since the time meant for it
Was used to bow the head,
Chin placed on palm
While the brain travels far beyond
To get the next job on plan.
Even this poem you read,
Idleness made it to be.
