Sunday Morning

by jimowensjr

As I sit

And contemplate

This day ahead,

Those gone by;

Enjoy the breeze,

The butterfly;

 

On Sunday Morning.

 

Sip the brew

And new day live

In gentle ease;

It seems this life

Has troubles small

So free from strife;

 

On Sunday Morning.

 

And now reflect

How others fare

And my neglect

Their needs to meet

My conscience full

My life so sweet.

 

On Sunday Morning.

 

What must I do?

How can I mend?

Another’s soul

Put to an end

Some hungry grief?

 

On Sunday Morning.

 

In my own way

Sure not another’s;

Perhaps a coin to give,

A smile or touch,

Might mean to them

So very much;

 

On Sunday Morning.

 

Though all I cannot

Redeem all from trial

But all together

Might offer a while

Some place to rest

Body and soul,

Some others bless;

 

And all days ‘til

Sunday Morning.

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