Stolen

luxiuriating in a sunny
morning, a hot cuppa
coffee, and a good book
I am sinning against
the Protestant work
ethic.
guilty pleasures
are the most fun
a stolen kiss
when the baby is busy
a movie in the afternoon
all by myself
to deviate
even if for a minute
from the relentless pressure
of duty, of responsibilty
of being an adult
just for a stolen second
to be carefree and reckless
surely ranks up there with
the seven deadly.
but laying back in my
stolen moment, I
don't give a damn.