The sun slowly slips over the roof tops,
glorious in its shiny brilliance.
Chasing away the night drops,
that linger with stuborn resilience.
Pretty songs fill the room,
wafting gently in the air.
The morning starts to bloom,
the alarm clock sails with such… flair.
Stretches and yawns,
the first smile of the day.
The sun wakes and casts its bronze,
sparkling beams in that sky of gray.
Fluttering eyes trying to blink,
slumber beckoning, tempting a return.
Soft pillows beckon, where a head could sink,
alas, but you must be stern.
A new dawn, new day, but hang a bit..
hop out of bed, make a note draw a map.
Dear self.. “buy a new clock you twit”
oh, but wait… it is Monday.. oh crap!
Mondays.. too much weekend and they can be well… blech. lol
things just have a way of going wrong on Mondays
Everything seems more daunting.
So why do they just keep coming?
IT IS LIKE WE HAVE ONE EVERY WEEK!
what is up with that?
Someone needs to look into this.
drugs, we can turn to caffeine…
It must help?
oh well… enjoy your Monday
I have the week off.
Monday Morning Blues
The keys are in the refrigerator,
The IPod’s in my boot,
And I am running late for work,
The toast is in my suit.
No coffee in the percolator,
Just water, very hot,
Now what is it I have to do?
Oh, Lord, I just forgot.
My shoes are in the elevator,
My socks are in the shoes,
And I am getting dizzy,
With the Monday morning blues.
The phone is in the garburator,
My lunch is in the sink,
And though my day has just begun,
I think I need a drink.
My foot is on the accelerator,
My brain is back at home,
My hair is falling in my eyes,
I think I need a comb.
And I am no exaggerator,
Each week is just the same,
For every Monday I wake up,
And play the same old game.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
Happy Monday, hope it goes.. uhm… well?