Sense Sonnet - Acher

 Wishful Thinking

Mowing the lawn, his given chore.

We're always anxious about this,

But know that he likes writing more,

For the time being, gives us bliss.

We deem mowing to be attack,

That gives all of us a bad day.

Even though we do soon come back,

We all hope for prolonged delay.

He now has put his writing down.

Look at the mower, he does take.

From us comes a collective frown,

That we dandelions all make.

Unhappy outcome we do find,

Mowing the lawn back on his mind.