I wish a day could stretch beyond its twenty-four hours;
allowing dawn to linger while I savour breakfast in calm;
no frantic check of time as I pour my tea;
no rush to dash for transport or meetings.

Morning light would flood my window long enough;
for slow stretches and thoughtful planning;
I'd arrive at work with minutes to spare;
settle into tasks without scrambling notes.

Lunch would become an unhurried affair;
a proper break with laughter that lasts;
afternoon hours would hum with clear focus;
projects advancing at a steady, unrushed pace.

Evening could unfold like a second dawn;
time to practise hobbies or wander with friends;
family dinners would not be a race against the clock;
conversations deepening as hours drift by.

Social outings need not end at curfew's chime;
late-night talks stretching into starlit freedom;
then at last I'd choose my rest: eight, ten, twelve hours;
each second mine, reclaimed from life's tight measure.