the wind sings a song
of howling sadness today
catching at the corners of
the old teak farmhouse
as the sky cries in long
exclamation points
and puddles of loss
form on the ground...
we stay inside away
from the worlds pain
cocooned in warmth
the blucat a sleeping
hearth stone...
me making soup a
nd scones
to the sounds of my clan
the click of knitting needles and building blocks followed by demolition...and laughter
this is love.
this is easy,
everyday love.
under a grey and
brooding winter sky.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
the wind sings a song
of howling sadness today
catching at the corners of
the old teak farmhouse
as the sky cries in long
exclamation points
and puddles of loss
form on the ground...
we stay inside away
from the worlds pain
cocooned in warmth
the blucat a sleeping
hearth stone...
me making soup a
nd scones
to the sounds of my clan
the click of knitting needles and building blocks followed by demolition...and laughter
this is love.
this is easy,
everyday love.
under a grey and
brooding winter sky.
i am forever blessed by
simple days like this...
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