There is something about Saturdays.

How they let the mind roam free

Romp, Loose and Unrestrained,

Creativity running everywhere,

Past the guarded gates of the week,

Past the well-worn paths

of the dutiful day to day,

Off the well-traveled trails

And deeply into the dark woods.

Places we fear getting lost in during the week,

Anxiously focused as we are,

Accomplishing and Achieving,

Routine matters of hand and mind.

Yet, the heart, though, for the heart,

The paths not taken, Beckon LOUDLY.

That’s the siren’s call, Of Saturday’s Song.

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