Shelves brimming with books
A leather covered nook
Lace curtain dances
On morning breeze
I hurriedly go to work

One day these pages
Will open to me
I will read aloud
To my love over tea

A neighbour stops
To look longingly
At the morning moon
Snaps it with a long lens
While my blue screen eyes glow

One day I will wake
By the light of the moon
Lying on soft tufts of dry moss
We will curl and trace the sun in morning ritual

Ginger cat curls in winter coat 
Around blue flowers soaking low lying sun
Lush grass is mown by guinea pigs on a run
New natives thrive in builder's rubble.

One day, on eve of Spring 
I will wade through winter garden's tailings
Gather barrowloads of greens to reveal fresh ground 
We will chirp like birds at herbs that survived all odds.
Plant companions for their year ahead.

One day, I hope it comes.