Blackbirds chuckling in the arbor vita; Vultures circling high Against the blue and Sunday sky; House sparrows scolding in the neighbors' trees; A robin chorister brings Dickinson to mind, And I don't mind.
Sunday morning's breakfast's done, And we have time To smile a little... Bashful mornings Just a little now Even after thirty years.
Tomorrow storms will come; Next week a tree will fall; Shadows must make their surly steps Even as sun slides down... It's just the way this old world runs.
But this morning, This Sunday morning, Bright and fine, I rest from all my worrying, Rest in the love I have with you, Amazed again to have, Amazed to hold, A girl like you.