Poetry

On a Sunday afternoon
there is a silence that lingers
when wild doves, weavers and sparrows
peck some seed from the back lawn,
while the two Jack Russell dogs
stretch out in the sun,
bees and butterflies buzz and flutter from flower to flower,
while the sun hangs white and bright in the cobalt-blue sky
 
and then your eyes sparkle when they catch mine,
while there is a restful tranquillity
when the shadows stretch out long
and roses, geraniums and gardenias
flaunt with their most beautiful flowers
and everything is lovely
like only a day with you can be.