Sunday

My little girl, with pony tails, All dressed up since dawn, No one understands, What is going on? Why you’re up already There’s no school today Let me sleep my baby Go away and play Up from dawn, all bothered Looking so wound up With glee and cheer in eyes Spinning like a top You got dressed up quickly And cleaned up all your toys Sitting here and waiting For a slightest noise With your eyebrows pointing Towards your button nose, Tears roll down your puffy cheeks Like from a garden hose Pacing so impatiently , Back and forth and then Checking hands of my old clock And then you start again You jump! Your Up! The door bell. Ring.. Those eyes, they say so much They sing. A smile. A kiss “He’s here! He’s here!” He lifts her up, “My daddy!” “Dear!: And as they leave behind the door, With joy upon her face How hard it is to realize She only lives for Sundays