Wednesdays will always be troublesome.
Mondays shine with possibility,
Either week's beginning or Sunday's cleanup crew.
Tuesdays just fail. With no
Expectations (they're not Monday
After all), Tuesdays become
Confused-days, not knowing if they should emulate Monday or
Jump into end-of-week shenanigans.
Failing at both, they give way to dear equivocal Wednesdays.
Knowing neither beginning or end
Wednesday attempts nothing, gives
Nothing, muddles around, muddies one's mind.
First Friday follows then Real Friday,
Then expansive jovial Saturday.
(Sunday stands alone; we won't disturb her).
Poor Wednesday. Trying nothing, gaining nothing.
Leaving me wondering if I should write her something.
Nearly forgot to write a poem
71/100
The end of this poem made me smile, the giving of something to Wednesday. It feels sweet and kind. What a beautiful way to show you care, even if that’s not really what it’s about. So glad we know each other here. I have a feeling Neil would say,” anyone who cares so much about lovely Wednesday is my friend.”
Thank you. Very kind. You know the position I was in: finished reading, started prepping for bedtime and… “Oh crap, I haven’t written a poem yet! Darn it! Wednesdays are always going to be troublesome what with choir rehearsals.” And there’s my first line….