T.G.I. weekends

We throw ourselves upon the beds
and exhale a sigh of ecstasy.
For though our sore kinds ache and hurt,
tonight it's okay to be lazy.
We recall with distaste
all those lessons which were boring,
and before we are aware of our drooping eyelids,
we are lying there, snoring.
We dream of saturdays
and of waking up late,
and playing wizards' chess
by the warm grate.
Of knitting hats and socks
to free the ungrateful elves,
and of going through fat books
on the various library shelves.
We dream of snowball fights,
and of trips to Hagrid's cottage,
of buying sugar quills
that are all the latest rage.
We dream of taking revenge on Peeves
in some ingenious way.
" Please make this weekend go ever so slowly"
we all pray.