How like a prison is a cubicle
Where office workers type out bills and forms
How I prefer to mend my bicycle
Or lie with a sweet man among ripe corn
Oh, why did we not stay as chimpanzees
With no house , no tax or rent to pay
Even might I envy a striped bee
That gathers nector as it gently plays.
We would not need to study etiquette
Nor washing up ,clean worktops or new clothes
We would not even know an alphabet
As in the hot sunshine we would all doze
I escape traps by fantasy and mirth
That’s my sonnet, estimate my worth
How my heart sings 