I’d Pick More Daisies

If I had my life all over again I would pick more daisies.

If I had my life to live all over, I would try to make more mistakes next time.

I would be sillier than I have been this trip, I would relax.

I would limber up.  I know very few things I would take seriously, including myself.

I would be crazier, I would be less hygienic,

I would take more chances, I would take more trips,

I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets.

I would eat more ice cream and less beans,

I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I am one of those people who lives protectively and sensibly and sanely,

hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I have had my mad moments, and if I had to do it over again,

I would have more of them; in fact,

I’d try to have nothing else, just moments, one after another,

instead of living so many years ahead.

I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer,

a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.

If I had my live to live all over again,

I would go places and travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live all over,

I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

I would play hooky more,
I would ride on more merry-go-rounds.

I’d pick more daisies.

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