Sunday Ways.
Afternoon yawns along lulled cobble streets
as Sunday relief beckons comfort to people.
Coast-swept valley folk stretch Sunday-legs
to hill-high chapels and heads
bend to pray as Sunday-sea laps reverently,
milk-mild and rippleless
while hinterland whispers browse to passing
ambles of un-hasty cattle
loath to quit pasture for stick-dry cow shed.
White azure wipes haze over Sunday sky
and time eases as housewives
fold greasy aprons to revive post-dinner
languor alongside napping
males who full-bellied unbutton to snore
in belch-ridden dreams
those second helpings of creamy fruit pie.
Sunday-dusk drifts in with need to linger
as kitchen gathers its family
for sandwich supper of Sunday-eve treats
yet weekend ceases while
togetherness blinks as clock-chime shows
Sunday-ways stop when cool
hob-black kettle loses its prodding to sing.
As fire-glow dies tired souls climb worn steps
where sleep knows dawn means labour again.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: January 18th, 2021 04:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 45
Offline)
Comments6
You have such a remarkable way with words .. I only need to half close my eyes and I am transported to some other place ... write now is no exception to that rule .... Sunday tea time with my Mum & Dad and little brother ... it never varied, until it was gone ... x
'it never varied, until it was gone',
so true a statement, to so much of our lives...
Good write Fay.
i enjoyed this down to earth write fay
You really are a wordsmith, Fay. Wonderful description of a lazy Sunday, took me back to my youth. And the picture goes so well with your fine words.
Very fine words Fay and that picture really took me back to the days of my childhood. Thank you.
Andy
a wonderful trip back in time, to an idyllic scene, worded so accessibly immersive,
thank you for sharing dear Fay
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