The Very Best Day Of The Week

Yesterday I was asked to say
the name I considered the perfect day,
which of the seven I thought to be best,
far superior to all the rest.
It took a second, or maybe two
for me to state what I already knew.
It certainly won't be Monday.

If Sunday's considered the week's first day,
yet still is a day for relaxing and play,
then Monday becomes a grim number two,
and it's back to the workplace, so much to do,
files and phone calls, a belligerent boss.
I really think it wise if we toss
Monday off the list.

Let's move from seven to six fine days,
eliminate Monday so that I might say
the name of the weekday I admire the most,
so lift your glass to this meaningful toast:
Here's to Thursday, that most remarkable day,
the one of which most people say:
Thank God, it isn't a Monday.

I don't understand the reasons why
grown men break down; they weep and they cry
when the sun comes up on a Monday morn,
some of them wish they'd never been born.
I wonder, though, if Tuesday will mind,
for it won't take long for people to find
that it's Monday all over again.

Yesterday I was asked to say
the name I considered the perfect day,
when out of the blue, like heaven sent,
came the very best answer: I have no comment.
But I still don't like Mondays at all.