When Thoughts Hold Sway

On Monday, when the sun is hot

I wonder to myself a lot:

Now is it true, or is it not,

That what is which and which is what?

On Tuesday, when it hails and snows

The feeling on me grows and grows

That hardly anybody knows

If those are these or these are those.

On Wednesday, when the sky is blue,

And I have nothing else to do,

I sometimes wonder if it's true

That who is what and what is who.

On Thursday, when it starts to freeze

And hoar-frost twinkles on the trees,

How very readily one sees

That these are whose- but whose are these?

On Friday-

(sadly, this was never finished, due to an untimely interruption by my utterly inconsiderate fone!!)