Sundays

Sunday afternoon around 5pm
I'm sitting on white rose sheets
with the windows wide open
chicken soup bubbling on the stove
i put a pound of chicken, sliced fine
with onions, potatoes, carrots too
and more stuff to make it divine
soon the fragrance will waft through the rooms
and perhaps drift out the house
someone will smell our evening soup
and perhaps walk faster towards their home
or maybe just stand, cause it stoked a memory.

Today we woke up at 6:30am
before the moon had completely left
I had a good spell, I guess
usually I'm awake nights, and fade at dawn
like those faraway stars
They are so beautiful so distant
But I want to be a singing bird
to greet the morning in.
I've had enough of sleepless nights
feeling alone unloved and wanting more.
I want to worship the sun
and get things done
oh that rhyme was terrible
but it's true, I swear
I want to change
I want every day to be like this
cooking together, in a house
freshly cleaned
the cats warming in the light
and just laughing
enjoying life
and saying good night
just like today
this sunday.