I dream of a home by a quiet lake,
Where trees surround, and the air I take
Is filled with the scent of fresh-brewed grace;
Black coffee rises as I wake.
Inside, the rooms glow with memories,
Stories of love, of hope, of peace;
Each wall bears stains of joy, long pressed,
And pillows, blankets, throws made of cotton and fleece.
The kitchen, warm; a hearth for all,
Where stomachs are full and laughter calls;
Conversations linger, soft and sweet,
As friends and family share their seats.
The walls are littered with art that brings;
A reflection of life, of the little things;
Moments captured, frozen in bliss;
Like the image of our very first kiss.
A library waits, its wisdom always near,
Photo albums filled with memories so clear;
A treasury of knowledge close at hand,
Stories shared with the closest of friends.
The pantry brims with all we need
To craft each meal, to plant each seed;
Enough to nourish an endless fire,
A feast for love’s unquenched desire.
Outside, a garden stretches wide,
Green with life, where dreams reside;
Tall trees shade a tranquil view,
Of water glistening, bright and true.
A wooden dock cradles our boat,
Together we drift, we dream, we float;
From one soft moment to the next one,
Our love is the current,
reminding us where we’ve come from.
Beneath the sun, a spot I find,
To write, to read, to free my mind;
The space to dream, to plant, to grow,
To craft the life I’ve come to know.
The grass a canvas, green and bright,
A valley of hope, a dream in flight;
Where changing thoughts take solid form,
New ideas and themes are born.
And as the stars like fireflies glow,
We sit by the fire’s final show;
The flames die down, the embers fade,
And call us to our peaceful shade.
I dream of a home by a quiet lake.
Where we are proud of the life we make.
— Sincerely, Boris
