Sunday Surmise

A day in week when everything is rosy hued.

You want to wallow in bed till the gong strikes noon,

And be to the telly glued.

You don’t want to run the shower.

And under the water you cower!

You don’t want to cook or clean,

For it is a day to let go of the sheen.

Your mind is on a trip to wonderland,

Riding the roller-coaster in the motion so bland!

Nothing matters as all baggage is shed aside.

You are closeted in a cocoon so tight.

You cast aside the masks and the make up.

You go on a detox.

You give your self an airing and dust off the cobwebs aside.

And as you sleep on a Sunday night,you feel so light.