To Mend a Dreary Monday’s Woe

The dawning light reveals a heavy yawn,

For Monday’s weight upon thy tired frame,

And though the weekend joy by night was drawn,

Today wars with a deep and grudging shame.

How canst thou shake this wearied, mourning plot,

As joy flees like the morning dew's retreat?

For yestern hours oft ficklest dreams allot,

Yet now, fatigue and sorrow's claim repeated.

Oh, seek within the heart a new frontier,

For hidden fires thereupon lie in store,

Thine purpose bright doth pierce the murk sincere,

Unveiling fortune on the path once more.

Then breathe, and take this Monday as a gift,

Thy strength and heart will adst yet thine uplift.