It's Friday Again

It’s Friday again It’s Friday again and old soup is asleep Slumbering, dreaming and snoring so deep Or maybe out shopping, a new pair of shoes A purse or a tie or whatever they choose Perhaps they are climbing the side of hill Their head in the clouds always comes as a thrill Or out in the yard with their daisies and roses A camera in hand in case anyone poses Just maybe their driving somewhere in their car Staying quite close or discovering far I guess they could all be out eating their lunch I’m not sure of that, it is more of a hunch They could be out golfing or skiing I guess Though ask them and I’m sure they will not confess Maybe the dentist, a tooth that does ache Out at a barbque eating a steak Flying a kite or out rowing a boat It’s way past the day they allow us to vote Riding a train across rickety tracks Pressing their shirts and then pressing their slacks Something has happened, of that I am sure There’s nobody hanging ‘round soup anymore I know it is Friday and always the same Only a few diehard poets remain Man it's boring around here on Fridays