Sunday for the churchgoer
the sower of the seed
I'm at home relaxing
with everything I need.

In the flock,
there's always that one
who tends to dawdle and to stray,
leading poor old shep the sheepdog
when it hides, to seek away.

And from the pew
religion too,
from the TV
one more soap,
but if one stray sheep reaches heaven
then for me,
there must be hope.