Sunday morning chores,
As the family still snores,
And I’ll bang some doors.
The book is back on,
But so much to work through now,
More material though.
Cleaning up my place,
Giving order and a clean face,
Better now for sure.
The rain down the pane,
Trickles meanderingly,
In it silent streams.
The clouds fill the sky,
And without definition,
And no sight of sun.
