Sunday Morning's Mind

In due course, the minds wake up
After Saturday's night
Comes the Sunday morning
Lazy bones extend the sleep
They push the day that far in peep
Peeping through their windows
It is surely morning

Friday papers pile on the tables
Unread due to dawdles
The weekend has surely ended
Monday is a sacred day
Even in New Zealand

Travelers hit the roads
Crossing rivers and bridges
Joining their “Matatu Matata Matamus”
The launderers as far as the streams
Are drying clothes in the angry sun of Autumn
They dry clothes all over the eyes of the Sunday sunshine
It is a day of purification

"If you are polluted, purify yourself"
The verse of the book has it right;
You are from the Saturday Party
Did you eat a forbidden food?
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You are about to be late,
Bishops are in church.