Nostalgia

14Dec08

When each day’s end nears,

It’s the perfect time

To take a moment

And feel sublime.

The beast stares at me

As I walk through my abode,

Giving no second thought,

‘Tis quiet as a mouse.

Through the door

I make my way.

Amidst the grass

I make my stay.

The liquid I taste.

My pipe I light

While feeling the mist

And the warmth of sight.

It’s these quiet moments,

Though seemingly mundane

That keep me happy,

That keep me sane.

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Tags: Poetry