Sunday Night – A Poem

Sunday night,

Work tomorrow,

Nervous feeling,

Kind of hollow.

Sunday night,

Resting time done,

Things to sort,

No time for fun.

Sunday night,

Ironing to do,

Plans to make,

Work to look through.

Sunday night,

Struggle to sleep,

Monday looms,

Alarm soon goes ‘BEEP!’

This is how I feel almost every Sunday. The day before I go back to work. I remember I used to start work on Tuesday once and the same apprehension used to take place on a Monday night instead. For another of my poems click here.

Rocky Mountain High

I am reblogging this because it shows a part of Canada that really interests me as a geographer. Canada definitely has everything from mountains to grizzly bears and a fascinating traditional heritage.

You can imagine how excited I was when my friend suggested we take a drive to Banff, about an hour and a half from Calgary. The excitement grew as we…

Rocky Mountain High

That Sunday Feeling

The weekend is full of joy,

Much needed sleep and rest,

On Saturday I get stuff done,

For me that day’s the best!

The weekend is a chance to chill,

And watch TV and browse,

But Sunday brings its own delights,

Like cleaning half the house.

Take me back to the seaside.

On Saturday I shop and dance,

I try to workout and be fitter,

But Sunday brings a different vibe,

That sometimes makes me bitter.

Because Monday follows Sunday quick,

And preparations for the work week start,

I wish we had three day weekends,

More time for fun and art.

Reality brings chores and angst,

As ironing and planning fill my days,

But Monday you don’t own me,

With your taunting, stirring ways.

On Sunday I can still kick back,

And eat bacon sandwiches in bed,

I see you Monday, glare at me,

You’re messing with my head!