The golden light of day descends in slow retreat,
A calmness settles in, on concrete and on street.
Laughter fades, replaced by whispers soft and low,
The weekend's final embers, glowing embers slow.
Dishes stacked, a battlefield of breakfast bliss,
Newspapers rustle, turning pages with a kiss.
A gentle sigh escapes, a week's exhaustion nears,
Yet in this hush, a quiet strength, a time for conquered fears.
Children's laughter, hushed and drifting up the stairs,
Bath time stories, whispered secrets, sleepy prayers.
The scent of lavender, a calming, fragrant sigh,
As shadows lengthen, fireflies begin to fly.
The week unfolds, a blank and waiting page,
A chance to dream, to turn a brand new stage.
Worries linger, whispers in the fading light,
But Sunday's peace holds them at bay, a temporary flight.
A cup of tea steams, a warm and comforting friend,
A book awaits, its pages promising no end.
The quiet hum of life, a melody so slow,
In Sunday's hush, a chance to breathe, a chance to grow.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
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