POEM : weekend.


It is morning, an early dawn, a week ahead.
Time to get up,
we gently shake the sleeping creatures.
We leave in sixty.

Two grunts, a groan, some other sounds.
A roll over, blanket pulled high.

Time to get up,
we firmly nudge the slumbering beasts.
We leave in fifty.
A grunt, two groans, some smelly sounds.
The blanket wrapped like mummy arounds.

Time to get up,
we kick the creature beasts, avoiding head.
We leave in forty.
A moan, a sigh, a cry so deep.
A stretch, a vicious stare:
You awake me? Oh, how do you dare?

Stumble through toast and water,
Fall into socks and maybe clean undies too.
We leave five minutes ago, we yell!
Murderous glance we give, with love of course, these kids we’d never sell.
So out the door we races
A weekday conquered, see our victorious faces.

If lucky, we have most children
And some food to eat.
A diaper or two, and of course seventy-two books and some sketch pads.

It is morning, an early dawn.
We roll over sleepily and look at one another with love.
Time to not get up,
we grin.
It’s the weekend, we need not be up til who knows when.
Our eyes close with delight
and savor the delicious slumber of light sleep-in sleep.
All is content,
Where did the stress and worry went?
A time to slow down and relaxes
Not deal with stuff like schedules, finances, and taxes.

The beasts viciously assault our sleeping bodies.