On Sunday mornings, the world slows down,
A gentle hush across the town,
The sun stretches with a golden yawn,
Embracing the promise of a quiet dawn.
Birds sing softly, a melodious tune,
Dancing in the light of the waning moon,
Nature breathes in a tranquil sigh,
As dreams linger in the azure sky.
The air is rich with scents of peace,
Time seems to move with graceful ease,
Hearts find solace in the gentle sway,
Of Sundayâs calm and soothing array.
As evening whispers draw the night,
Stars awaken with a tender light,
Sunday folds into a restful embrace,
Leaving traces of its gentle grace.