Friday

  Oh, Fria's day has come at last,
  The last workday will soon be past,
  Tomorrow's light will come too soon
  And wake me fore the crack of Noon.

  Portents of work that must be done
  Cause wishes for the rain, not sun,
  Lord knows, the grass could use some rain
  To grow before I cut again.

  But mostly Fridays mean to me
  Some silliness, frivolity,
  Some stupid poem or Trip Report,
  A silly joke, a quick retort.

  Such things prepare me for the end
  Of Days of Work where I did spend
  More hours a'sitting 'pon my duff ...
  Boy, gummint work is really rough! :)