Sunday, 10 February 2008

Sweet Sunday

Sweet Sunday,
sweet dreams linger in the shades,
sweet softness of your skin
still sleeping in the sheets.
Sunday, Sunday, the laziness remains
in my limbs,
whispers caress my ears
and I know there won’t be
Sunday, Sunday,
come and lay beside me,
two in one,
let us melt into the nothingness
of everything.


Mick said...

Baby got back! In bright, pop colors too! I love the poem ... as I always do! :)

SusuPetal said...

Towards spring with pop colours, Mick! yeah!

Trijnie said...

What a great painting and the poem what could I say......nothing more to say

SusuPetal said...

Thanks, Trijnie, need to say no more!

Peter said...

If every day could be a summer Sunday? Or maybe then you would be out of bed a bit earlier?

hpy said...

Beautiful. (ANd how is Monday?)

SusuPetal said...

Monday was quite allright, in real life, HPY, in the poem I believe Monday sucks!

SusuPetal said...

Peter, maybe it's a matter of attitude to regard all days like summer Sundays....?