The Procrastinator’s Waltz

Absorbed in the delicate three beat rhythm While lost in her eloquent dance, She gracefully whirled from one spot to the next Never planning her steps in advance. Her feeling quite clear As the delicious euphoria warmed her She held the dance quite dear; For a while it seemed to calm her. Over her partner’s protest Who struggled to effortlessly progress, She fleetingly held it close to her breast In her dance with a beat of three. Gleefully unable to stop She did not seem to understand Much like an hourglass turned on its top, There’d be a shortage of sand. She felt the crises and the guilt Yet she pushed the alarm away; Not wanting this day to wilt For she still had next and thereafter day. Above all she loved the thrill How could there be any fault? It was her will To love her favorite dance: the procrastinator’s waltz.