Working at a batch of cinnamon buns, sure to bring wake-up smiles!
Saturday wraps its robe around the shoulders of the world
The marketplace where human-race tries to keep pace is
hushed
And gentle-like across this globe a murmur is unfurled
Its invitation to vacation from our schedules soft,
air-brushed
Saturday slips from fingertips with lips shaped in a smile
It drips with cinnamon and mocha-flavored wake-up calls
Its measure like a treasure offered once a weekly while
Where we can waste or savor the full flavor of it all
Some say that Saturday is just another-nother day
But I think Saturday is like a welcome-home embrace
It flings its welcome mat in saturated blues or gray
To draw us from the rush that tugs and pushes human race
Cut me a great big slice of 'my, oh my, look at that sky'
Pour slow that second cup of fill ‘er up festivity
Take down the clock that ticks and tocks toward constant
good-bye
And linger longer ere this Saturday slips out to sea
© Janet Martin
No matter what the to-do list looks like, Saturdays are different somehow. Have you ever considered chucking your to-do list for one Saturday just to linger longer over moments slip-slip-sliding away?
a wee while later...
a wee while later...
You know what my husband is doing right now? Making cinnamon buns! I saw your pic and thought, wait a minute, that looks like our kitchen :-) I do the cooking (to the best of my ability) during the week, and David usually takes over the kitchen on weekends, he loves cooking.
ReplyDeleteLove Saturdays, too. Thank you for the cinnamon flavored poem, enjoy your day, Janet.
LOL!! No way!:-) That is so cool.
ReplyDeleteHere's to cinnamon-bun Saturdays and good for David!!Cheers.
I wish hubby were here to enjoy them warm out of the oven but he will be home around noon. Right now he is shoveling frozen manure out of his trailer :-(
What a lovely poem. As delightful as the images. : )
ReplyDelete