Only on a Sunday


Diana E. Backhouse


Dear Lord, forgive me all my sins

Send my demons far away.

I really promise to be good, Lord,

But only on a Sunday.


On Monday, with licentiousness,

My head and heart are full of lust.

On Tuesday gluttony takes charge;

I eat until I’m fit to bust.


On Wednesday avarice plays a part,

Pure greed rears its ugly head.

Next day dawns and so doth sloth

So Thursday I don’t leave my bed.


On Friday anger turns to wrath

To sins my door is open wide.

On Saturday I envy all

Yet view myself with haughty pride.


I will be chaste and diligent,

Be kind and temperate all day.

With love, I’ll forgive most humbly, Lord,

But only on a Sunday.



 ©2007 Diana E. Backhouse

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