The weekend has come at last.
Two days of perfect bliss
With beer and football games galore.
Who could ever want for more?
But hanging over this peaceful scene
Is a specter quite obscene.
Now, well you might be somewhat curious
At what would make me so furious
On this my only days of rest
When all all should be the very best.
My team is winning, I should be glad,
Instead I'm boiling, hopping mad.
For just as sure as death and taxes,
More bothersome than phone or faxes.
Just when I have settled down
A terrible messenger comes around.
A reminder from my past.
My wife with her 'honey-do' list.
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My day of rest weaving complex,
Our breath, arms and legs lingering unease,
Waiting for the hour after we left,
Unfinished
by Ed Ostrom
O Lord, today I rest in You,
Your renewing work in me do,
More than conqueror I would be,
And now live here in victory,
by Charles Ray
The weekend has come at last.
Two days of perfect bliss
With beer and football games galore.
Who could ever want for
My day of rest eludes me
Body screams to take a break
Stationary bike twice a day
Swim and walk
Till my heart begins
by Excelsorsior AKA Xelsorsior
My Day of Rest = day = (date + y + y/4 - [y / 100] + [y / 400] + [31 m/ 12]) mod 7
Where has it been written to change My
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