On Thursday’s Eve

The demise of racing time is pretty reversed
Each moment, now graciously seeking to gather as much information as can be

Meanwhile, the joy of approaching Sabbaths and the burden relieve of worthwhile daily duties mixes well

Peace interjects with well-deserved memories
Wednesdays, otherwise a seeming oasis in a long spanning week turns radical with the approach of night

If Monday and Tuesday is adjudged strategic determinants of week, then a moment in a day befitting gentle reflection and retrospection for the clear path to maximize each week is the eve of Thursday

Why don’t men labor relentlessly till the dawn of Sabbath? The resounding answer lies in the bosoms of Thursday’s eve

The day which pipes the cozy air of a definite weekend; a day which trumpets the gossips of days unfelt

Thursday’s eve, a mild summer right in the heat of winter; well placed to gently pace the rush of each week

Had it not been for Thursday’s eve, what a notable difference would be felt from start to end of each gifted week

Avoid Malice then, all you onlookers! Stage your stance and avoid altogether standing aloof on the fringes of time

What would the posture of the week be in the absence of the eve of Thursday?

For me, pretty hollow; withered; unfortunate; incorrigible; deafening; murderous and diabolic

So now, tell me my friend, what have you done with this personalized gift to all laborious souls?

How have you used or abused Thursday’s eve so far?

NativeDr,
NII
Rite-life Freelancer
( [email protected] , 0266 650 605)