Peaceful Pleasures Past

to and fro the air flowing gently along in slow motion, moving.

Dandelions and the soft fluff of white drifting upward in circles,

as a dragonfly hums by.

A small cottage in the distance,

and further beyond a mountain reaching upward,

touching the gray sky.

Gentle rains playing soft drum beats upon the rooftop,

a man chopping wood for the nearing cold,

as a small boy chases a frog along the dampened grass,

a woman appearing before the doorway,

a dishcloth in hand,

calling to them for a prepared meal,

as night started to replace the day.

The crackle of a log placed upon the fire,

flickered a dance of red, blue, and yellow.

He smiled upon her from across the table,

reaching across to touch her soft skin of her hand beneath his own,

rough with callous in labor of work,

as they enjoyed in the foods earned in struggle.

The boy emerged from his seat and went to quiet slumber,

and in quiet they sat and talked alone.

They sat outside on the old swing,

as the rain clouds had opened to reveal the moonlight.

Her head rested upon his shoulder,

he hugged her closely warmed in her beauty thankful she was near.

To her, his rugged exterior, was more that of emotional strength.

A nearby neighbor passed in the night upon horse drawn carriage waving in the distance.

Crickets singing their songs into the night,

in peaceful pleasures past, to their world here.