I sit on my back porch.
With the fire pit roasting at my feet,
keeping me warm and comfortable
as the rain washes away my worries.

The white wicker chair
old, but strong
cradles me into a cocoon
as my blanket hugs me.

The fire twinkling in the dark of the evening,
pruning my feet like the sun does to raisins.
Its flickers and waves amuse my eyes
as I feel its flames tell me a story.

The moon and stars,
as old as they are, still shining bright.
My friends that I look up to from time to time.
for clarity and wisdom, and are not thanked enough.

I listen closely to the rain’s rhythm on the tin roof
as it sloshes its way through the clogged gutters,
to the sound it makes when it hits the concrete ground.
The sound lures me into a new… better world.

Here,
in this place of love, ease, understanding, welcomes, and real friends
there is no worry, no stress, no judgment, no guilt or pressure,
just the perfect place to be when the real world isn’t perfect
… Although eventually, you will have to return.

But for now
I feel the playful gestures of the flame’s warmth, wisp along my feet.
I listen to the soothing harmonies and captivating rhythms of the rain.
I watch the sun turn into a bright full moon and the clouds turn into sparkling dancing stars.

This is where
I want to be.
I dream to be.
I live to be.

You hedonise yet killed your gamble
Coveting, lusting, groping for words.
You penetrate her deepest thoughts
Imprison her, criminal humanoid.

You steal her breath in the strokes of your pen
Your delirious limerick strangling her.
But your words in aching beauty
Gratify the body of your poetry.

Now you reached the ****** in your robust stanza
The provocative lines steaming desire.
You hit upon another magnum opus
A mortal sin told in the poem of Oedipus.