Thank Heaven's It's Sunday

THANK HEAVEN'S IT'S SUNDAY Thank Heaven's It's Sunday; if not the Lord's day of rest, it is mine Get up as I please, leave the dishes in the sink, do as I am inclined Jam Jam's on all day, 5 o'clock shadow, slurps on my front, no care A bed un-made, crumbs on the sheets, watching TV in my armchair The cats ripping at my lace curtains, a dog chewing at my furniture I'm doing nothing, but, watching, no use in even trying to avert her Their food bowl's are empty, just showing their discontent, fair do's But, I draw the line when one of the cat's craps in one of my shoe's Back door open, pets out for their play, I fill the food bowls, hooray This just does not happen on any other day, than heavenly, Sunday 6pm, the party is over, I really do need to clean up, all of this mess Silk threads I sew the holes in the laces, you would not even guess A bit of wood filling on the chair legs and wood stain, all looks good Dishes washed, shower, into fresh jam jam's, all looks like it should Love my couldn't care less Sundays, wouldn't have it any other way And, the cat's and dog, on any other given day, always they behave Clean set of sheets, a good vacuum, all the day's rubbish in the bin Come Monday, muckiness is next to godliness is not one of my sins Indiana Shaw . . . ; ) "Excuse the dog, I don't have one, and as a female, don't have a 5 o'clock shadow" . . . ; ) "The cats however do exist, and they shed the lace curtains, whether their food bowls are full, or not" ; ) "It's just poetry folks" . . . : /