A bird song carried on still air.
A shaft of light catching dancing motes of dust.
A sunset crimson thrust upon the dusk.
A waft of hyacinth and earthy earth.
A chestnut crackles on the fire.
A fresh baked bread’s aromas spread.
A hushed expectation of nothing new.
A waiting for the homecoming, dinners due.
A promise of a welcome unrestrained.
Coming in from the garden shed
little need be said.
But magic is always present where its always fed.
David, sparkling imagery, savouring aromas, and sounds abound. It may be so very ordinary, but there is a magic about it when you close your eyes and savour it all. Great poem, loved every word. Thanks for sharing it. David
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Amen to that. I have read several of your poems and I am marking you as a friend.