It's Sunday morning.
There's a crazy chase, it's dashing around the morning homestead.
The son, well not the son of God, although I think, he thinks he is, lays prone across his Sunday bed.
A silent home, so still.
The daughter, my beautiful beast of burden, rests awaiting her fruitful event.
My mucky pup is bundled under my daughter's cosy covers.
As both are a pair of bed lovers.
Puppy, her name is "Blue", reminds me of a bundle of rags.
She moves now and then but, only when her ears detect unfamiliar sound.
No-one can hear the crazy chase, it's just Sunday chasing onward into Monday.
Only the clocks are aware what they pursue, as they storm through the house, quiet as mice; catching only moments and using them up.
And so there went another one!
(C) LIVVI 2014