Poem for her 371

Dear Readers,


The weekend


The days of the week in a cabin in the woods blend
When we live in the city house the days trend differently
The sky is almost the same but the sounds aren't
In the city is traffic noises and cars
In the cabin the sound of wind and birds
Hardly any planes over head but those high up
Lonely road and peaceful days blend til known not when
The weekend has a place in the city house easy to tell
The sounds of cars slow and the mowers start
The cabin in the woods no mowers are heard but ours
Not that we love to mow a lot but some grass gets cropped
The weekend long in both places though longer in the woods
The fire in the fireplace get stoked daily and chill gone
The stars at night better and brighter and we like silence
The weekend is slowly come back our way again
You will snuggle long on my shoulder on the porch swing
Be it at the cabin or the city house
You'll snuggle in close and my hands over skin slow
You'll drift off to sleep and I'll repeat

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.