It Doesn’t Feel Like Thursday

It doesn’t feel like Thursday,

It doesn’t have that air.

Most Thursdays have a lightness,

A sense of fading care.

For Thursday’s also Friday Eve,

And Friday signals pleasure:

The gateway to the weekend,

Two days of rest and leisure.

Apart from all the washing,

And any DIY,

The cleaning and the shopping,

That make the days fly by.

But still, we get to lie in bed

Until we gently wake,

Unless the kids and pets compete

At how much noise to make.

It doesn’t feel like Thursday,

As far as I can tell.

Perhaps because it’s Tuesday,

Which may be just as well.

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