"Why Sunday?" My daughter asked.
"His work done, God rested
on the seventh day
and it was Sunday",
I concluded.
Sunday,
A week's work done
I rested in my armchair
A book in hand.
In her study
She tried to convince
her mother, in vain.
Finally,
Exasperated
She asked me again
"Why Sunday?"
"Rest, dear,
A week's work done," I said.
"Just tell her that,"
She said, "and let me play."
I realised then, she, the mother,
Never had a Sunday!
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