Always On Sunday Poem by Randy McClave

I remember as a family going to church
And there we would always sing and pray,
There, salvation my family would search,
Always on a Sunday,

There was nothing ever to watch on TV
Except for religious shows telling us to obey,
I watched them while sitting on my father’s knee,
Always, and every Sunday.

Mom would always cook our Sunday dinner
Outside we were not allowed to play,
We were taught to obey and not to be a sinner
This, and every Sunday.

The Sabbath was the time for our rest,
We worked every Monday through Saturday;
In serenity and peace we were taught to invest
As my family did, every Sunday.

The stores they were always closed
Even the gas stations and the local cafe,
It was a different time, then I supposed,
Now everything is opened, and different on Sunday.

Randy L. McClave