The man writes!
I took some rest
Against a tree
All was quiet
No-one but me;
And the breeze that blew;
The birds that chattered as they flew;
Ponies chewing across the moor;
And the sound of distant church bells
Calling in the few
The one or two
Chimes appealing for the likes
Of me or you.
But, I was walking upon the heath
And took a break to catch my breath
For if one does not on occasion rest awhile
Chances are I’ll work till death
Though some do say I’m a lazy sort
Who’s always resting
And will come to naught.