*******************************************
Antidote for the Modern Lifestyle
My wicker chair,
Painted in vibrant parrot colors,
Hides deep in the blackberry brambles.
Behind me, a cushion eases my back,
Convincing me to put my feet up
On the gray boulder footstool.
On the iron arbor overhead,
Long canes cross, and then cross again,
Tangling, and softening the glare of the sun.
My book waits in my lap.
Real paper pages beckon to me,
Promising tropical travel adventures.
But, for now I am content
To listen to a small brown bird
Chatter with the local frogs.
4 comments:
lovely poem Karen,its is gloomy and wet again here too,hopfuly the sun with be back soon,xx Rachel
Fantastic! Just fantastic!
Nice. Beats whacking them down.
Really like the poem. Behind in blogging as usual
Having trouble proving I'm not a robot, too
Post a Comment