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Poem

Once a week, on a Friday
I have the most delightful way
I escape from all household chores
When Friday comes, I shut all the doors
To trouble and woe,
Then off I go.

I take Friday slow,
And savour every second
Because I know
That Father Time will beckon

And the time will pass too fast,

I don't mind,
If the weather rains or shines,
It will be fine for me.
On Fridays, I feel free.

I spend hours in a cosy cafe.
I reserve a window seat.
I have lunch there every Friday.
It is a tasty treat.

Their coffee is the best,
That I have ever tasted.
And would stand up to any test.
And not a drop is wasted.

I love sipping my coffee,
And watching people as they pass.
It's like I can see the world more clearly.
As I quietly sipped coffee behind the glass.

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