Ten-Toed Sloth

I've been feeling positively slothful these past few days. It's been an effort to do the basic housework and finish writing some policies and proposals that are due for my boards. So rather than work to write a clever entry in today's blog, I thought I would share a couple of poems about sloths. Enjoy.

The Sloth by Theodore Roethke

In moving-slow he has no Peer.
You ask him something in his Ear,
He thinks about it for a Year;

And, then, before he says a Word
There, upside down (unlike a Bird),
He will assume that you have Heard--

A most Ex-as-per-at-ing Lug.
But should you call his manner Smug,
He'll sigh and give his Branch a Hug;

Then off again to Sleep he goes,
Still swaying gently by his Toes,
And you just know he knows he knows.

The Sloth by Michael Flanders

A Bradypus or Sloth am I,
I live a life of ease,
Contented not to do or die
But idle as I please.
I have three toes on either foot
(Or half a doz. on both)
With leaves and fruits and shoots to eat...
How sweet to be a Sloth!

The world is such a cheerful place
When viewed from upside down,
It makes a rise of every fall,
A smile of every frown!
I watch the fleeting flutter by
Of butterfly or moth -
And think of all the things I'd try
If I were not a Sloth.

I could climb the very highest Himalayas,
Be among the greatest ever tennis players,
Always win at chess,
Marry a Princess,
Study hard and be an eminent professor,
Or I could be a millionaire,
Play the clarinet, travel everywhere,
Learn to cook,
Catch a crook,
Win a war then write a book
About it; I could paint a Mona Lisa,
Be another Caesar,
Compose an oratorio that was sublime...
The door's not shut
On my genius but -
I just don't have the time.

For days and days among the trees
I sleep and dream and doze,
Just gently swaying in the breeze
Suspended by my toes;
While eager beavers overhead
Rush through the undergrowth,
I watch the clouds beneath my feet...
How sweet to be a Sloth!