A Recently Found Lost Piece
The days between Saturdays
are too many and too long.
I cherish my Saturdays and Sundays,
but they seem to fly by too soon.
I need them to go as slowly
as those other days.
Those other days - are work days.
And, if you take note,
they seem to drag on and one -
and for the most part,
the weather is quite pleasant.
My weekend days
are meant for fun and relaxation -
but where did the pleasant weather go?
No one wants, needs, or appreciates
the foul weather that waits
for the weekend to happen.
poem by Bob Barci
Added by Poetry Lover
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