The Sunny Sunday Roast
Sun is in my eyes
Waiting for lamb without any fries
The potatoes have a crispy feel
After they were cooked and pealed
I move an inch and the sun gets block
While my seat stays warm and hot
Since the winter here is like an appetizer
With a small bite that makes us start up a fire
As the winter decides its ready to go
Only staying a spell, you know
Its bitterness took out a room and decided to be a guest
Making us bundle up in our finest wintry dress.
A cloud just stepped in
Making this one seat a win
It protected my eye
From the brightness in the sky
Patiently the dish I wait for
Before heading out the door
Here comes the Sunday dinner
from an animal that was sent to earth
to protect us from being a sinner
Shade has just checked in and turned things comfortably dark
To enjoy this weekly tradition that really hits the mark
After all the plates are clear
And having a feeling of nothing to fear
Since it was the lamb that went down
Smothered in gravy that was brown.
Time to prepare for tomorrow
With hopes of no Monday morning horror
But if adversity should arise
I will be armed since I had lamb without any fries
Copyright © Marc O'Brien | Year Posted 2020
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