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Found this written several years ago.  Seems little has changed. There is much to get in the way of planned tasks and intentions.

Time to Write

Eight months ago I left my job, with all its perks – like pay

To stay at home and write a book, and discover the writer’s’ way.

A year I’d take, I thought in glee  – a huge expanse of time

To sit in peaceful solitude while penning prose and rhyme.

If I could write a thousand words, each week if not each day

I’d well and truly have a book, and could be on my way.

I’ve hung the curtains, polished floors, filled the house with light

Ripped out hedges and planted more – the garden’s a true delight.

I’ve cooked and cleaned, and cleaned some more, made textile art for walls

I’ve painted several rooms, including both the halls.

I’ve tried to fight distractions and keep my mind on task

But finding such a focus is one almighty ask.

I am a mother, after all, and that takes up much time

It is a job I relish and makes me feel sublime.

I’ve proofed a hundred essays, and goaded kids to learn

Tried encouragement with kindness, resorted to being stern.

I’ve been the unpaid chauffeur, whose duties see no end.

And alternated playing roles of counsellor, nurse and friend.

I’ve tried to fight distractions and keep my mind on task

But finding such a focus is one almighty ask.

The days fill with diversions, the hours vapourise

The challenge to keep my butt on seat has been a great surprise

Ebay is distracting, and yes, the email too

But then I’ve met some cyber-friends, and terrific bargains too.

The dog has been to puppy school and learnt to fetch and stay

But while she earned me ribbons, literary dreams were kept at bay.

It was the theory way back then that I would write that book

Polished and primed and ready to go, for publishers to look.

But now the deadline looms ahead, my work is still in draft.

The house looks great, the family’s well; what’s suffered is my craft.

There’s still so much to edit, many words to sculpt and prune,

I am determined to get there, but bloody hell, it’s almost June.