Pitter Patter
P ropped up on my pillows
I n the attic room,
T inkling sounds of
T he soft rain on glass
E ngulfs me in the peaceful
R etreat that is my boudoir.
P laying a soothing tune.
A llowing me to drift off
T o dreamworld again.
T reasured extra hours
E nveloped in eiderdown.
R eveling in rainy days.
05/03/2017
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2017
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