It begins mostly
When Saturday has rolled by
Like a trundling drum on gravel,
With all the loud sounds of
Rock ‘n’ roll music.
In one sleepy hour,
We wake and hail
The sirens of the birth
Of a new day, sunny and warm,
But sometimes with giggling snow
And mocking sleet.
Peace reigns.
Serenity matters until
The church bell tolls atop
The crest of the village church,
Summoning the faithful.
Jim Reeves strums his guitar,
And his baritone reads through the
Lines I have on my Sunday paper,
Forming lyrics of gratitude for a
Blessed new week.