bf Sunday
I woke up this autumn Sunday morning
with papier-mâché clouds performing
like a ticker-tape parade from left to right
a strong breeze doodling fall leaves to flight
The birds are just gliding, no flapping in sight.
Today’s a free day, a don’t mess with me day.
I’ve no homework, or assignments
it’s like I’ve escaped from confinement
even my coffee tasted like creamy freedom.
What do you do when you don’t have to do
anything? Why, I could write a play, like Mozart,
or an opera, like Shakespeare - if I were THAT smart -
but don’t those sound like academic effort to you?
I want to hold hands in the park and promenade,
Peter loves strolling the flower markets by the Seine,
a gelato at Amorino after lunch at the Saint James cafe,
and the rain or shine street art at Rue Saint-Rustique.
Isn’t boyfriend-time the best way to spend a Sunday?
.
.
Songs for this:
Waterguns (feat. Tom Bailey) by Caravan Palace
Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz
Dreamin' by G. Love & Special Sauce
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