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John W Townsend

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A SUNDAY
by John W Townsend → (All Poetry by John W Townsend)
   Rated "G" by the Author.
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Sunday has changed, rearranged nothing is what it used to be.


Poem Artwork

 

.

Should I start to say
in my day
or skip it
as if it began as it is?
Well it did not for me
so I will say it
anyway
so here goes,
in my day.
You see today
a Sunday
comes every week,
I went to the shops
some business
things to seek.
People everywhere
to avoid
as they zig zag
left or right
me I find a pathway
where I am heading
in sight.
It did not happen
in my day
shops were closed
when i was a kid,
it was a silent day off
for almost everyone
some went to church
I guess.
Its just another day
tagged onto the weekend
which is doomed to disappear
when the push becomes a shove
you see people now worship
another god.
In my day
a Sunday was often
time to relax
sit in the garden
out in the Sun,
watch my Dad
mow the lawn
go for a cycle
on empty roads,
just take it easy
with a friend
days lasted longer then
that too is a myth
.


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 Reviews of "A SUNDAY"
Reviewed by E Phillips
Reviewed on December 1, 2014
And you'll get pie in the sky when you die ...
It's a lie! A tale well told, John.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on December 1, 2014
Thanks to the church, where there was one, Sunday was the only day of relief from endless labor in the 19th century. The "my day" time you are writing about was well after the 40 hour week and overtime was established by strong union activity just after the turn of the 20th century. It's easy to reminisce about "my time" when you don't know anything about the history that made your time what it was… Just as contrived as Sunday is today.

Ron

Reviewed by John Domino
Reviewed on November 30, 2014
GREAT truths in poetic form! What ever happened to that popular song, "never on Sunday?" That saying must have went out with "The Twist" I guess!


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