Saturday Night In
Comfortable old slippers
Waiting by the door
Easy to slip into
Like so many times before
Nothing very special
Doesn’t cause a stir
But such an easy option
And always waiting there
What’s the point of changing?
The years are fleeting by
Just wear those comfy slippers
Until the day you die
Too late for running barefoot
Too late for being wild
Too late for acting crazy
Just like a little child
So wear your cosy slippers
And sit beside the fire
And watch those burning embers
Forget about desire
©Marian Barker
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