Hymn

We sing our hymn for the weekend
Autumn brushes against the window pane
Browns and yellows
Flashing with sparks
Trilling with musical notes
We try and catch the electricity in our hands
A little ray of light to make the morning brighter
To hear our song
Amplified like birds cawing on the window sill
It is slippery under foot
Alice skips and twirls in the puddles
I grip my toes
Scared of falling
There's nothing to be afraid of she giggles
But I am
My fears fill my head
Like candles in a pumpkin head
In that case I will blow the candles out she squeals
It is good to open the door
To step foot upon the ground
But there is nothing better than coming home
To fill our stomachs with water and sugar
To fill our minds with dreaming thoughts
We stick memories in books
Like crisp fallen leaves
Ones that hold a thousand memories
One day we will sit and look back on them
Like a good song replayed in time
Our hymn for the weekend
Passed on and treasured in rhyme.