In the golden light of Sunday morn,Where time moves slow, and dreams are born,The world takes pause, in gentle grace,Embracing peace, in this sacred space.The whispering winds through trees do sing,Melodies of rest that mornings bring,A symphony of quietude, profound,In Sunday’s arms, where solace is found.With footsteps soft upon the dew,We wander paths both old and new,In every breath, a calm refrain,Sweet Sunday’s peace, our gentle gain.As shadows lengthen, and day doth wane,We cherish moments, free from strain,For in the heart of Sunday’s light,We find our peace, our soul’s delight.