The large guest room hides
from baby squalls, ice cube maker
coffee grinder and garage door sounds
a three floor climb to indoor heaven.
Double bed entices with heirloom quilts.
Wall to wall, three-paned window
frames tall verdant backyard forest
invites dreams, a portal to the mind.
Mornings are delectable. Sun filters
myriad shades of green, breeze shivers
through leaves, becomes visible in movement
dew evaporates chills to warmth.
Pure luxury to lie in bed, eyes open wide
as sun rays seep through window panes
left to right, flit from branch to branch
like reading nature’s tale revealed in glass.
Morning presents positive possibilities
light unchecked by darkness or distress.
I become the bird that spreads its wings
and flies toward the day.
lillian the home poet 
You know, the first house my husband and I shared was a small Cape Cod. The upstairs bedroom was on the small side for two giant people, but to this day it remains my favorite room for one simple reason: The windows were low – even with the bed. I’d wake up every morning and get to look directly out the window and into the trees. It was so dreamy.
Your lovely poem, Lillian brought me back to my favorite room. Your words were just perfect.
Thank you.
Have a lovely day in Boston.
annmarie 🙂
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So glad you liked this one. Isn’t it amazing how words can just take you back in time to some place else?
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