Happy Saturday.
The rings of Saturn constrain us, for a day that we comply.
Round our midst’s is a circle that postpones, our plight.
Order and presence on a day that we move to stay.
The last day of our week to set the grove, to rest, and play our role.
The role that we have made, it has legs and keeps our knees.
Knees that hold our place of height, towering over its shadow din.
The view includes a week of a time x’s one life that makes done deal.
You had your place and its days, to be a record, with matter and fact.
That you no matter how conscrewed made a mark, in the just of place.
Satisfaction to undertake, or be it regret, as your life a week at a time, ebbs to fro.
We cannot cheat to the final score, but open the book of life to roar…
It’s done, no more opportunity the great day has made its rounds.
To your life and those that would stake a ring, to extend its lore.
Jump you Jupiter, it will go your way, cosmic rings are no post.
When our fate, is not into reach, another Saturday to invoke
A change in the time we spend, and the regret piles its colored spin.
About that planet and din on din, Saturdays produce or die without.
The virtue of complete without repeat, Saturday will boast.
Or silence your tale, and when we look to remember you, we won’t.
As place is made to buy our own peace, won by doing, and less talk.
Denial makes no mind, since; who would listen those that waste the day.
End.
KDG
Humpty Sharma, Saturday, Saturday. Music
Kevin Griffiths
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