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Happiness is...
Ice gleams on the front porch
Glistening in the moonlight
That gently illuminates
The quiet, cold yard.
My mother balances
Her guitar on her knees,
Smiles, and tilts her head
To sing lullabyes to the stars,
Lilting and dreamlike,
And not of this world,
Her clear voice filling up
And warming the air around her,
While her fingers dance on the fretboard,
Movements sure and precise
Yet playful and laughing
All at the same time.
I sit bundled beside her
Tiny hands still wrapped around
A steaming mug of cocoa,
Basking in the midnight music.
happines
thesimplepleasures of life great
I can't think of a better
I can't think of a better childhood memory. This was just wonderful.
....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Midnight Music Basking
What wondrous images, as if I were there in the crisp atmosphere where stars are serenaded. A transportingly enjoyable and memorable write ~Lady A~
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