Early Works - Smoke Rings
Lazily reading a book
on a Sunday afternoon,
sitting in a comfortable chair
watching smoke ring rise in the air.
Do you know the satisfaction
of a lazy Sunday afternoon,
of the joy of watching children
playing on the floor in the front room?
27 June 1981
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Lazy Day
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be beef today cause lamb was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon youll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you sunday moms.
Its such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Todays heaven-sent and youre feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, its quite sad tomorrows so bad
And I dont feel so strong.
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now its almost over till week.
Thats how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lean On Me (Tonight)
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be lamb today 'cause beef was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon you'll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you Sunday moms.
It's such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Today's heaven-sent and you're feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, it's quite sad tomorrow's so bad
And I don't feel too strong.
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
LIke to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now it's almost over till next week.
That's how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story
—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To nowhere,
Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation
And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why?
And if-Monday-never-had-to-come—
When you have forgotten that, I say,
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,
And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,
That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner
To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles
Or chicken and rice
And salad and rye bread and tea
And chocolate chip cookies—
I say, when you have forgotten that,
When you have forgotten my little presentiment
That the war would be over before they got to you;
And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed,
And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end
Bright bedclothes,
Then gently folded into each other—
When you have, I say, forgotten all that,
Then you may tell,
Then I may believe
You have forgotten me well.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I came home every Friday afternoon, riding the six miles on the back of a big mule. I spent Saturday and Sunday washing and ironing and cooking for the children and went back to my country school on Sunday afternoon.
quote by Ida B. Wells
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Glorafilia
She keeps me waiting in the morning
Tying ribbons in her hair
And come the evening theres no warning
Why Im not to know why she isnt there
No time to tell her all the reasons
Why I always disappear
And in those desperate situations
I just fade away still she never cares
But Glorafilia says
She says its just another Sunday afternoon oh oh
And Glorafilia says
She says there aint no point in loving you no oh
She keeps me wrapped around her finger
So I dont know what to do
And using my imagination
She could set me free
I bet she's dying to
And sipping wine around a table
Her expense is plain to see
Entertainging for a living
Shes got everything that she doesn't need
But Glorafilia says
She says its just another Sunday afternoon oh oh
And Glorafilia says
She says there aint no point in loving you no oh
I cant sleep at night
I must show that things just ain't right
I really need to know
But Glorafilia says
She says its just another Sunday afternoon oh oh
And Glorafilia says
She says there ain't no point in loving you no oh
But Glorafilia says
She says its just another Sunday afternoon oh oh
And Glorafilia says
She says there ain't no point in loving you no oh
song performed by by Zed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Afternoon in Chocolate City
It is Sunday afternoon in Chocolate City.
I only came to visit,
but I drank of a bittersweet brown elixir
and came down with an allergic reaction to leaving
My endorphins got all swollen
with the spiritual notion
of Black Love
It is Sunday afternoon in Chocolate City
My lover is on bended knee beside me
We had been fighting over nothing in particular,
Perhaps just because the thing between us is so strong
We barely have room for our own selves.
So we pray.
Pray for love
Pray for strength
Each for someone else
Then for one another
Together we Pray
for the anger to go away
Ask for understanding of a love so strong it chokes
and we can only breath together
we share the air between us
always, out of breath
always, needing more
Just like that,
reaching for a tissue,
an accidental brush
we are twisted limbs of amber and mahogany
backsliding into one another
sweaty in humidity
our wetness caramelizing on the floor
It is Sunday afternoon in Chocolate City
And we forgot to say “Amen”
by Ghetto Girl Blue
poem by Jessica Holter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Raining On Sunday
It ticks just like a timex
It never lets up on you
Who said life was easy
The job is never through
Itll run us til were ragged
Itll harden our hearts
And love could use a day of rest
Before we both start falling apart
Pray that its raining on sunday
Stormin like crazy
Well hide under the covers all afternoon
Baby whatever comes monday
Can take care of itself
cause we got better things that we could do
When its raining on sunday
Your love is like religion
A cross in mexico
And your kiss is like the innocence
Of a prayer nailed to a door
Oh surrender in much sweeter
When we both let it go
Let the water wash our bodies clean
And love wash our souls
Pray that its raining on sunday
Stormin like crazy
Well hide under the covers all afternoon
Baby whatever comes monday
Can take care of itself
cause we got better things that we could do
When its raining on sunday
Pray that its raining on sunday
Stormin like crazy
Well hide under the covers all afternoon
Baby whatever comes monday
Can take care of itself
cause we got better things that we could do
When its raining on sunday
When its raining on sunday
When its raining on sunday
Let it rain
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
At Home, At Home
Sunday afternoon
at home
sitting on a Persian pillow
watching the outside view
the sea over there
the mountains on the other side
sipping green tea
closing the eyes
meditating
on who you are
what you are
and what i can do for you
i have green eyes and the
tree are changing its leaves into mournful yellow.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Powerful People
Look at the powerful people
Stealing the sun from the day
Wish I could do something about it
When all I can do is pray
Its a lonely afternoon
With nowhere to go but my room
And sunday when theres time
I think of these things on my mind
And I dont know
Where I will go
Look at the ominous people
Draining the salt from the sea
Wish I could just stand up and shout it
Why cant they let goodness be
Oh its a lonely afternoon
With nowhere to go but my room
And some day when theres time
I think of these things on my mind
And I dont know
Where I will go
Come on you world wont you give a damn
Turn on some lights and see this garbage can
Time is the essence if we plan to stay
Death is in stride when filth is the pride of our home
Wish I could just stand up and shout it
Why cant they let goodness be
Oh its a lonely afternoon
With nowhere to go but my room
And sunday when theres time
I think of these things on my mind
Oh and monday theres no time
So I close both my eyes and Im blind
And I dont care where oh where is my prayer
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Most adults, unlike most children, understand the difference between a book that will hold them spellbound for a rainy Sunday afternoon and a book that will put them in touch with a part of themselves they didn't even know existed.
quote by Mark Haddon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rubber Band
Rubber band
Theres a rubber band that plays tunes out of tune
In the library garden sunday afternoon
While a little chappie waves a golden wand
Rubber band
In 1910 I was so handsome and so strong
My moustache was stiffly waxed and one foot long
And I loved a girl while you played teatime tunes
Dear rubber band, youre playing my tune out of tune
Oh
Rubber band
Wont you play a haunting theme again to me
While I eat my scones and drink my cup of tea
The sun is warm but its a lonely afternoon
Oh, play that theme
Rubber band
How I wish that I could join your rubber band
We could play in lively parks throughout the land
And one sunday afternoon, Id find my love
Rubber band,
In the 14-18 war I went to sea
Thought my sunday love was waiting home for me
And now shes married to the leader of the band, oh
Oh yeah... I hope you break your baton
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dayton, Ohio - 1903
Sing a song of long ago
When things were green and movin slow
And peopled stop to say hello
Or theyd say hi to you
Would you like to come over for tea
With the missus and me?
Its a real nice way
To spend the day
In dayton, ohio
On a lazy sunday afternoon in 1903
Sing a song of long ago
When things could grow
And days flowed quietly
The air was clean and you could see
And folks were nice to you
Would you like to come over for tea
With the missus and me?
Its a real nice way
To spend the day
In dayton, ohio
On a lazy sunday afternoon in 1903
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Afternoon
I can think of better days
As I look into your eyes
And I feel that in a way
I know that youll be alright
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Im gonna whisper in your ear
Ive a lot of things to say to you
Ill give you all my universe
Youre all I want and thats for sure
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
In your darkest hour
Take my hand and Ill show you
Understand it much better
Ill make sure you get there
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Art Lover
Sunday afternoon theres something special
Its just like another world.
Jogging in the park is my excuse
To look at all the little girls.
Im not a flasher in a rain coat,
Im not a dirty old man,
Im not gonna snatch you from your mother,
Im an art lover.
Come to daddy,
Ah, come to daddy,
Come to daddy.
Pretty little legs, I want to draw them,
Like a degas ballerina.
Pure white skin, like porcelain,
Shes a work of art and I should know
Im an art lover.
Come to daddy,
And Ill give you some spangles.
Little girl dont notice me
Watching as she innocently plays.
She cant see me staring at her
Because Im always wearing shades.
She feeds the ducks, looks at the flowers.
I follow her around for hours and hours.
Id take her home, but that could never be,
Shes just a substitute
For whats been taken from me.
Ah, come to daddy, come on.
Sunday afternoon cant last forever,
Wish I could take you home.
So, come on, give us a smile
Before you vanish out of view.
Ive learned to appreciate you
The way art lovers do,
And I only want to look at you.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fighting For Night
Sitting and watching the sun rise
knowing time is near
time to laugh
time to smile
time to cheer
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
over the puffy white clouds
over the bright blue sky
over a home town
Lyeing watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
down to the ground
down to the greenest of grass
down to meet your tears
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
up past the stars
up past the sun's lost glem
up to where it shins too full
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
not watching
not breathing
not hearing
not frowning
Swaying
Laughing from below
watching your body away
watching the rope in the moon light
watching gathering people
watching them cut you down
Laughing from below
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
Laughing from below
Laughing
from
below
poem by Kathlyn Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday
Sunday
Blank screen waits for me to fill it with strange letters,
but there is no haste as this is a lazy sunny afternoon.
Earlier today when the window shutters were still on
someone knocked on my door, I hid in the bedroom
didn’t want to open. Been alone for a month now and
don’t like to meet people and talk idly about nothing,
be polite and offer coffee and cakes.
Just been reading about the Portuguese in Zaire,
they took their culture with them and thought their
sweet African life would last forever- what a useless
word forever is- and now it is all memories in books,
few bother to read. This afternoon too will glide away
as I sit here, wondering who knocked on my door.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It was a Sunday afternoon, wet and cheerless; and a duller spectacle this earth of ours has not to show than a rainy Sunday in London.
quote by Thomas de Quincey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Father
Hand in his hand though the park
All afternoon
A fine day to fly balloons or tell him a story
Hand in his hand to wonder
Till day is done
Sunday father and son
Sundays are theres to explore
Alone by law
One day to keep the two from turning to strangers
One day to know the answers
Be firm , be fun
Sunday father and son
The father weaves though the weekend streets
Sunday done, monday comin' on
He leaves the child by a modest home
That they share no more
With the woman who waits indoors
Till she knows he's gone
Where are the words or the games
A place to go
Someway to let him know you want to be with him
Somehow it's always ending
Just half begun
Sunday father and son
Sunday father and son
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!