Tired, partly from my own weekend excess
And also I seem to have caught a cold
Out again tomorrow, so I must rest
Tonight, try to recover and enfold
Myself in duvet and sheet. The uke flowed
Tonight, played old rock tunes from a playlist
Made by Spotify, and more practice showed
How great it is to persevere, that is
The secret of art and of fruitfulness
The harvest of my labour through the years
That little uke, so small and light to hold
Brings to life vibrations from my cortex
Some from my childhood. But so much descends
From and depends on young experience
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