Five days of hustle, of bustling might,
Then comes the weekend, a beacon of light.
An island of calm in a sea so vast,
A pause from the future, a break from the past.

The clock ticks slower, the sun shines brighter,
The load feels lighter, the world seems quieter.
Friday evening, with its magical charm,
Welcomes the weekend with open arm.

Saturday morning, a canvas clean,
Painted with moments serene.
A lazy breakfast, a stroll in the park,
A melody sweet, like a lark.

An afternoon siesta under the shade,
Or perhaps a picnic, homemade.
An evening of stories, of songs and dance,
In the weekend’s spell, we are in trance.

Sunday arrives with a gentle grace,
A slower rhythm, a softer pace.
A day to reflect, to rejuvenate and rest,
To prepare for the week’s upcoming test.

The weekend is a precious retreat,
A time to savor life’s every beat.
In its gentle whisper, we find relief,
A sanctuary from chaos, however brief.

So here’s to the weekend, our cherished friend,
May its magic moments never end.
In its embrace, let us unwind and mend,
And to life’s sweet rhythm, let us attend.

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