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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.
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