There’s so much not to do …

Time to explore, time to think,
Of absolutely nothing, bar turning pink.
Open the windows, welcome the sun,
Slice the melon, toast, perfectly done,
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!

Unpack the swimmers, slap on the cream,
We wait all year, to live this dream.
Our favourite place, high in the hills,
Andalucia, ecstacy (without pills).
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!

Splash! Last one in, buys the beers,
Bagsy not driving, cheers!
Prawns in garlic, bread dipped in oil,
Far away from the daily toil.
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!

No trains, no meetings, no email chatter,
Just sun and books … and swimming pool clutter.
Read and sleep, an occasional swim,
Another beer, I will never be slim.
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!

A cloudless sky, scorched tiles,
El Cortijo Grande stretches for miles.
Read a chapter, fall asleep,
Wake up, repeat.
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!

As evening falls, skin turns brown,
And absolutely no-one wears a frown.
Noisy crickets and stars that glimmer
Gin and tonic, plans for dinner.
Look at that view, there’s so much not to do!