An Ode to Fridaya free form, whatever comes out of my head poem
*disclaimer: punctuation is wrong, capitalization is wrong, complete creative license has been used. In other words, I know it's completely wrong*
how I love you
you bring promises of rest
The promise is there
even if the rest never comes,
it was nice to dream about.
no school to teach
no children crying because they hate math
just children crying because they hate chores
a glorious promise of fun unending
loads of laundry to laugh and bask in
3 meals a day to still cook
3 meals a day to rejoice in cleaning up after
ah, such rest.
hours of football in the background on the TV
the boys in my house enjoy
the girls in my house, not so much.
but hey, who wanted to watch old episodes
of the West Wing on a Saturday afternoon anyway?
Not me, absolutely.
I am enjoying a day to devote myself only
A day of Sabbath rest and worship.
after I make sure I'm dressed nicer than I am all throughout the week
and put on makeup for the first time in days
and curl my hair
and get the kids ready
and lovingly prompt my family to hurry up a bit
so we're not late, again.
and then yell at each other on the way out
and spend the first 15 minutes of Sunday School thinking
"I need Jesus so badly, I am such a bad mother"
and lunch to prepare
and clean after
and choir practice/Bible study/small groups to go back to
and then, ah rest.
after I plan for school the next week
and wash the dishes
You makes such flowery promises
I may have to hire a lawyer
to sue for