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Without the middle would we be complete?
Your bewitched spelling hints of a hidden treat
A special song like Saturday even more discreet
With the most letters you could rule over all the week
Firm not bossy, graciously you wield the right of way
Cut the week like a fjord’s cold tongue in Norway
Your three syllables we scrunch up so we can hurry
To fall into your arms today, tomorrow we can worry
All down hill from here if we can just get over your hump
To the sunny side racing down we ski your jump
To both your weekends, they’re on our list
One still to come we imagine even as the last is fondly missed
Give me a chance again I promise to love you best
Quit those other days steal the week and move out west.

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