The Wednesday Song

I wrote this little song to help the girls cope with Mondays. The weekend seems too far away on a Monday. But Wednesday… now that’s almost here.  The middle of the week is here, the middle of the week, There’s something very special ’bout the middle of the week. Your Monday morning blues fade into Tuesday morning skies, By Wednesday, you’re walking with the sunshine in your eyes; Just like a spoon of lemon flavored cod liver oil Goes down before it leaves the taste of lemon in your cheek. The middle of the week is here, the middle of the week, There’s something very special ’bout the middle of the week. Its true they say that Thursday and Friday can be fun, But you know it gets busy when there’s work that must be done; You’re happy for the weekend now, but have you heard the news: You’re headed for another case of Monday morning blues! The middle of the week is here, the middle of the week, There’s something very special ’bout the middle of the week. Your Monday morning blues fade into Tuesday morning skies, By Wednesday, you’re walking with the sunshine in your eyes.

Happily Ever After

When Baasha had done his hours of toil, He walked from his shop through the dirt, His hands bearing cuts from metal, and oil Did streak down the sleeves of his shirt; All traces of weakness fell from his face To see by the door of his shack His Rehmet in all her dignified grace Just waiting for him to get back; They shut out the twilight, bolted the door, Then dined upon water and rice, (The water in fact exceedingly more) With salt as the singular spice; Then Rehmet looked up at Baasha and drew His blistery hands to her face, To wash them in streams affectionate dew That rolled down her cheeks in a race; Ten thousand some miles away in the hour When dawn is announced by a breeze, There sitting beneath a clematis bower Husna and her husband Aziz; The question that Rehmet hid in her tears And found not the words to advance, Her sister in faith presented those fears In much of the same circumstance; If you were to die, and I to survive, Or I were to die leaving you, I worry the one remaining aliveĀ  May not really know what to do. Aziz said no words, but dried off her tears, Did Baasha, to Rehmet, the same; The darkest of nights eventually nears The dawn in celestial game. – – – – Your marriage is like a stake in the sand That shifts with your every breath; As long as you breathe, […]