When I was still working, I understandably used to look forward so much to the weekends. I wonder why now that I’m retired, the weekends are still so special. Is it that old habits die hard, or is there really something magical about these two days whose names just happen to begin with the same letter as my own name?
W aiting eager for relaxation
E ach weekday seems like a year
E ndless workdays in between
K eep my eyes just fixed on Friday
E lusive though it often seems
N early there, the prize is waiting
D one with work and now I’m free
W here has all my free time gone to
E ven whilst I was enjoying
E very moment of weekend fun
K eeping work on the back burner
E njoyment seemed to be the key
N ow it’s Sunday, almost over
D rat my weekend’s been and gone!
Wishing you all a delicious weekend.