A Sunday Poem
The church attendance slightly down,
the rugby match has drawn the crowd,
my walk in Herbert Park is done.
The papers need some reading,
surely all these magazines are passe?
out suitable sections-
the green bin fills,
and from cafe shop on Morehampton
Road the bolognaise with spaghetti,
the ice cream tub, the biscuit,
and kitchen table Sunday lunch,
settling down to snooze,
the papers in a pile beside the chair,
the garden can't be done today,
its sunday- a day of rest,
no servile work.
then twitter beeps best wishes
to leinster from an aussie.
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