A Letter to Monday

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Monday
Why do you hate me so?
I plan for you on Sunday
with lists and meditation.
Early to bed, early to rise
and still your torment grows.

Gray skies or blue,
sun-kissed warmth or north wind chill,
Mother Nature matters not to you.
With a vindictive snicker
you spill coffee, advance deadlines,
sabotage the printer
and fill my inbox with phish.

Oh Monday,
Is there nothing we can do
to appease your ravenous desire for disaster?
Cannot just one out of fifty-two
slide by with ease?
No headache.
No catastrophe.
No need for a stiff drink.

Monday,
If a friend is what you need,
then count on me to arrive with a smile each and every week.
But please promise to refrain from slapping it from my cheeks!