Oh dear, goals and me are not good friends.
Through life they’ve said, set goals.
That’s the way to get things done.
Yet goals are such firm targets.
They can become quite bothersome.
If their standards are not met.
With a sergeants majors voice,
FAILURE they’ll shout.
Loud enough for all to hear (and make you cry).
If you do not meet their standards high.
Aims on the other hand are far friendlier.
They take on the role of mentor in the planning world.
Taking you by the hand as if to say,
“Come on now, let’s give this a try”
Calm and relax they never scold
They realise life sometimes loves to throw obstacles in you path.
Aims set a destination, but don’t make the journey hell.
Encouragement is their forte, supporting all the way.
We got the direction and set the time.
“Just do your best, that’ll be grand.”
So with aims in mind, I’ll set my course.
First to find some crafting space,
A glimpse of table would be great.
A space where dreams may take shape.
Second to sift and sort and reorganise.
All those crafty things I hide.
Bring them back into light of day and play.
Finally I wish to feed my dinosaur obsession,
With art work of some kind, I know not what.
An obsessions that growls is best fed regular.
Map obtained, my journey starts.
6th of April
I Will Do It In Thirteen Weeks
Your poem should list three achievable goals, which you would like to accomplish within the next thirteen weeks.