Of Saturdays I cannot write
I cannot bear the silent night.
Yet it was such a day for fun
Lounging, sitting in the sun.

A day for sport, a day for talk
A day when many things were done;
A day when sleepy heads lay in
Ears alert for that special ring.

'Twas Saturday you'd be about,
Rushing here, in and out;
Things to do, a party due,
Oh silent night, 1 think of you.

'Twas a Saturday we kissed goodbye,
Absent knowledge of the sigh,
Caught in sorrow, so soon to follow
Oh my darling, what of I?
Left to groan, left to moan
For the child who said goodbye.

Yet still the Saturdays of my life,
For there's another place in sight,
Where God has gathered for His own
Children blessed to His Heavenly home.

No need to groan, no need to moan
For God has called them for His own,
The children gone on Saturday night
To enjoy the loving of His Light.

© Helen Catherine Cramer
12th February 1983.

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