Wait . . .

We are born to wait in line;

That's why feet become so flat

As we stand while marking time,

Growing older, growing fat.

Oh, the young think that this world

Spins to meet their ev'ry need,

And that ev'ryone's concerned

To keep life right up to speed.

But inertia's always been

More our birthright certainly,

Or perhaps the way things are

It is backwards that we flee.

They also serve who stand & wait,

Is Milton's motto grand --

Whether as angelic hosts

Or just at Disneyland.