Half Day

I love a half-day
As much as a cat hates a bath-day.
Because I get to come home EARLY
And not have to wait for the clock to finish its whirly-whirly.

But when I get to come home today
I know that it's you whom I get to see, and that's just great.
And then what? Three days of weekend?
It's something I'll never every wish to seek-end.

Holidays used to be called holy days,
And when we're spending them together, they become holy moley days.
It's one of those things that you'd wish would last forever,
And would have an abrupt end at never.

When it's time to return to the world, as is,
I'll look back on this time we had in remiss,
'Cause what we had was three whole days
And that's reason alone to give up some praise.