The wind is heavy with the luscious goodness of unfallen rain…leaves behave like they have no nest…the sun a truant boy bouncing off curtains long…the smell of spiced tea with cinnamon strong…me ensconced in a layer of lyrics hauled up from various cupboards of the mind…serenading the innocence of yesterdays.
you could be happy…
…is to watch the morning unfold, looking as inviting as buttered toast. The sun is out and someone in the apartment has decided to liven things up by playing the saxophone….it’s odd I always relate the sax to a moonless night. For a brief moment I think I hear the flutter of pigeons…getting breakfast I suppose? As for me I shall squander away the morning for its mine to give. Nothing beats the feeling of warm sun on your back and the spectacle called life.
If you’re hiding in some forlorn cafe hoping to meet your soul mate like Iam wont to do ….I’d reckon it may take a while. Here’s the thing though I do wonder where they can be found? I hadn’t really meant to voice that aloud but then Ralph must make himself heard …thats umm what imaginary friends are wont to do…..he looked at me and said maybe I ought to call off the search and simply enjoy the sudanese blend. And to the ummm Vikings I do meet in life ….smile more and take a chance ….ask her if she’d like another round of coffee and don’t worry mommy is right around. Meanwhile onto matters more frivolous may-haps a dip?
And afterwards I could read your fortune in the dregs?