More so than The breaking of bread It's the gentle tap of rain on tin roof That turns into a gale While two souls gently unfurl Tummies full of soup Grateful for gables to collect drops As hopes, fears and dreams swim in the air.
Steamy plunge of tannins Soaking in tea cups Stories waft like mist On cold winter mornings As moody songs fill the silent space between two beings.
Wild wings of wind pick up frothy tips of waves and cast them off in spray. Wow, we proclaim. Shed our outer skin to soak in deep ocean. No words needed. A watershed moment.
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.
Count the stars of heaven 