Writing Abode

Writing Abode

I set out for a traipse
Through woodland of the green
To take a breath of purest air
To renew my senses keen

Enjoying was I my little stroll
When the thicket I came upon
Gave way to scarcely a path
Beckoning me to continue on

I followed minutely a trail
Which lead me to this place
Where a quaint little cottage
Had grown flowers as her face

She stood rather small
And wore a hat of mossy thatch
Lined with ribbon about the brim
That lead to a pond of rainwater catch

Morning glory enshrouded glass eyes
In dark I know must glow
Had I not looked for them
I fear that they would never show

Her mouth was of the deepest red
Where the antique rose now grows
And above it there, entwined by ivy
A wreath grew gaily as her nose

I stepped back and looked once more
Into those eyes of glory growing blue
Their temptation proved far too much
So I fulfilled my desire to peer on through

I could see small lamps were lit
Casting warmth of fragile glow
I grew lost, encumbered by thought
Penetrate did this my soul

I then caught wind of aromatic proportion
That comes only from the rose
I believed it a polite gesture
I thought it an invitation to impose

Resisting not I stepped inside
And lunged down upon a chair
Then looked back out the window
To see the view from there

I saw such a beautiful rainbow
Lending end for even more to see
There, a plethora of flowers had grown,
I dreamed...were they there for me?

I noticed beyond all color
Encroaching was there the deepest thicket
But wiser was my cottage host
Who guarded herself with a line of white picket

Up above, I could see the sky
Of blue sheets and white pillows
And straight ahead, near the path
She had lined herself with willows

I never wanted to forget this-
This place I before never knew
I wanted to stay here forever
Though I longed to share it all with you

I thought that I might leave
To go back home and fetch you
And bring you to this mesmerizing place
So you could feel its charisma too

But afraid that I may not again find
This cottage with her lovely face
I thought that I should write it down
As never to forget this charming place

So I settled myself quite comfortably in
With pen and paper and mode
And began to relay the story of how
I found my writing abode

Nancy Roberts ©2001

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