Sunday, Sunday
Day of ritual things
Roast dinner in the oven
Resting tired wings
Plans are made
And papers get read
Lazing about is an option
No matter what is said
Guys wait at bus stops
Groggy from the night before
Ladies walk gently
Feet in pain from the heels they wore
Cars get some attention
Washed and cleaned and scrubbed
Plants and garden flowers
Get tenderly loved
Sandwiches are made
For the famly picnic in the park
Kids ride the roundabout
Till it gets too dark
But it's not Sunday for all
For some it's a normal day
They'll get their rest time
Just some other way
But for those with
An endless choice of day
There's something so relaxing
About Sunday, Sunday
No comments:
Post a Comment