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.