Waiting

Written by: Eiken Laan

Friday leaps through the window
curtains swing to the swish of the sea.

Spirit sparkling, dizzy for your return
I wait for your call, scanning the dawn.

Church bells chime down the hillside,
the village stirs under a honeysuckle sky.

A lemon field sleeps beneath the mountains,
plum purple with wild scented heather.

Life peeps from geranium doorways
as the blush of our weekend beckons.

Love burns red as a mid-summer rose
until Sunday sobs through the window.

And we yearn for Friday to leap again.