there is something about
the soft afternoon sunlight
pouring in through my window,
it makes me smile lazily,
blinking slowly,
makes me warm inside
like only 3:30
in the afternoon can,
nowhere to go,
nowhere to be

in all the right ways
it rubs so gently
into my senses,
i cant explain

there is a golden hour,
mid afternoon,
the heat of the day remains,
but the sunlight
has mellowed
into a buttery yellow
that i can taste

the rooms have become still
and quiet
so as to not disturb
this moment
of absolute divinity


the grandfather clock
ticks even slower,
holding the moments
silently between its ticks
and its tocks

condensation on the
iced sweet tea drips
with languid indifference,
the air stills
and the light pours in
like a delicious mouthful
of warm peach slices
and vanilla ice cream

what bliss
to be able taste
this part of summer,
to feel its oh so gentle silk
on my skin,
to close my eyes,
to breathe in the sunshine
and have its soft amber easiness
kiss my forehead
like i am
summers beloved