Sunday's By: Dru Liers

You feel like a Sunday morning

In a way where you wake up softly to the cold air to only be kept in by warmth

Where your eyes meet the little glimmer of light, to know it's there . . . a brand new day

It's the calmness of the moment, where you struggle to do anything productive

When you only want to stay in bed

It's the warm sheets and soft pillows

It's the carefree thoughts of today and not tomorrows worries

It's Sunday, and I have you

You smell like fresh coffee You taste like butter on toast

Simple but sometimes the only thing you need And sometimes, it's the only thing you have

You turn Sunday breakfast into Sunday brunch

Where all our friends are invited

And I just have a little too much to drink

But it's Sunday I tell them, and I have you

I cherish my Sunday's

And I know I'll cherish you