Friday fatigue engulfs my body,
I turn the key and step over the threshold
Between deadlines and bedtime.
The pillow cradles my head with soporific softness,
I love my bed.
Weekend ease allows me to watch you,
Laughing, playing, shouting, crying
‘My knee, Mummy. There’s blood!’
I pull you to me and nuzzle your soft neck, soothing murmurs in your ear,
‘It’s OK, we’ll make it better. Mummy loves you.’
Sunday is a day for rest.
Peel potatoes. Prepare the veg. Oven on. Bird browning.
The radio shocks me still with hurricane news
Too many to count, I close my eyes and ‘Oh God, no. Too much to bear.
Be with them, comfort them, show them your love.’
A knock at the door and in comes life,
I am lightened by the chatter and laughter of old friends.
Familiar glances, unspoken words and warmth of truth,
The amelioration of a weary week; we raise a glass (or two)
‘To life, to love, to US!’
Peace. The house is quiet and I pause; a slave to the sedentary kettle.
A spreading smile recounts the past hours but is tempered by stirrings of the coming week.
Your arms slip around my waist and soft lips kiss my neck,
Awakened, I turn to you with solicitous eyes,
‘Come on, love. Let’s go to bed.’