Tulips Grace the Table

I suppose it's a day like any other. I don't know how it starts, I never see a beginning or end, Morning or sunset, But I know I would have woken With you beside me, And gone to sleep With you around me. The only part I ever see Is this: There's a vase of tulips, Spring Green, Gracing the table, and the sunlight Seeps through the water, glowing. It's a kitchen. I realise that there are certain words that fit here, like 'ours' and 'home' and 'us' And from the opaline windows To the polished floor, oak, I see signs of you and signs of me. It's our home. It's us. It's you, me, Owning things, Belongings, Together. It's a simple pleasure, this dream.