Antiquated Silence
Sitting in antiquated silence, embossing the ambiance of the evening, pledged to myself in the liveliness of my thinking, providing my mind with small comforts of thought. Dew drawn on a clover leaf, sunlight streaming through tree limbs, the smell of fresh rain drops, tinkling piano keys, birds softly chirping an evening chorus of praise, satisfied with their living, what a glorious day, crickets playing fiddles, small peeps near a pond, cotton soft clothing, a well kept home. Onward they go, my ideas as they mingle in thoughts now of caterpillars soon to be butterflies honey bees dancing dusting pollen from feet a quilt, flowers, incense, indeed my sweet treat. Clouds building castles no man can see winds painting hillsides as onward they sweep doves cooing softly draped in pine trees day lilies, honey suckle, vines blooming sweet pea. Still, now they settle, quite, content nothingness pervades my thoughts now well spent the world cast aside to fend for itself the earth at rest now ...