Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Tree by the French Window

The white-pink blossoms
On the green dewy grass
The warm wooden seat
By the still glowing fire place

The sour-sweet cherry preserve
On the soft hot baked bread
The juicy golden and red apples
And the freshly brewed coffee

The long French window with
Cherry branches snuggling to it
The bright yellow sun bathing
A verdant mountain forest brighter

The vintage pocket radio
Playing older sweet melodies
The musty smell of old books
With yellow dog-eared pages

My sweet pleasures as a child
Come haunting in my dreams
As I wake up to the cold city and
Cacophony of the grey jungle