Saturday, my rose-view friend,
How shortlived
And how poorly played,
Your morning strung up
Genteel on the dogwoods,
Shading promises in modest sighs
And sophomoric lucency
To sway the weekday branches
All to sleep.
You’ve made a game too many
Of the idle hours and holidays
To suffer me another time
Your doctrine painted sunlit
Gold and glaring
Just to burn away
Reluctantly like never
A tomorrow rose.
Well I know better, Saturday,
My optimistic patron,
Because yesterday
Made faith with me
The same.

#Melbourned #Australia

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