Saturday, July 11, 2009

Being Boring

Being Boring

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.

There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion-I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last,
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.

I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.

-- Wendy Cope --

3 comments:

Ruth said...

I on the other hand did not have a turbulent past and sometimes wished for it. How silly though.

The superbell is a good image for this sweet poem.

Peter said...

Too much or to too little of things is in general not what you wish, but a little bit of exitement now and then is perhaps not bad?

... and to read your blog is never boring!

Claudia said...

At present, I can really identify with this poem. At present...

Thank you, Ruth and Peter.