Saturday arrives with a different kind of energy, lighter and less demanding than the rest of the week. It’s the day people sleep in, catch up on rest, go out with friends or simply do nothing. This poem is related to Saturdays, small joys and just being relax.
The alarm stays quiet, morning sleeps,
The week lets go of all it keeps.
Curtains shift, the sun feels kind,
No strict schedule on my mind.
My mom head out early, bread in hand,
Making loose plans whatever they planned.
Markets buzz and streets feel wide,
With laughter heard from side to side.
I stayed home, the couch feels right,
Movies queued from day to night.
Snacks within a lazy reach,
Comfort lessons that weekends teach.
Errands wait, but not too loud,
No rush to join the weekday crowd.
Time moves slow, then slips away,
That’s how I chose my Saturdays.
Friends may meet and messages flies,
Quick hellos and longer replies.
Stories shared, no need to rush,
Just moments warm and never hushed.
As evening comes, the lights turn low,
Plans may form or simply go.
Saturday ends, calm and true,
I'm feeling refreshed like I'm new.
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