On Sunday mornings
The house is dead quiet
Even the streets around and the estate too
Then in the afternoons,
Grows hearty with a warm lunch
Huddled heads round the dining table
And before you know it , Papa's
Takes his novel which he
Has been reading for the past 3 months
And clumbers on upstairs
Soon enough, soft snores waft from from his bedroom
And we all fall into that late Sunday afternoon haze
Of lazy beautiful siestas.
