North Chestermans - photo by Christine Lowther
When the rainclouds
lower themselves
and disappear the mountains,
when it starts to get dark at three o'clock,
the sky is so laden with moisture,
when the river is rising up
over its banks,
so pregnant is it
with November rain,
when mother bear and her cub
stir in the bushes at the end of the road
looking for their winter den,
and the old horse shivers
under her blanket
in the leanto,
waiting to go into the barn
and call it a day,
I smile all the way home,
knowing my cosy room awaits,
fireplace and candles,
pretty lights flickering,
warmth and comfort.
Gratitude.
Gratitude.
Gratitude for it all.
Great poem and pic. Love the repetition in the last lines.
ReplyDeleteAll the best,
Jack
The comfort of home, of place, calls to each of us in individual ways. The storm outside and the peace within,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2012/11/20/carved-in-stone/
Very nice, Sherry. You and me think alike. Even if the outside is rainy and grey, we can enjoy the wonderful comforts and warmth of home.
ReplyDeleteI love cozy by the fireplace, and you made it feel nice and warm.
ReplyDeleteCan't beat that feeling of cozy. A great help when writing.
ReplyDeleteI love cosy. And my room is my sanctuary. Mum's house is lovely too!
ReplyDeleteSo nice. I love cloudy, cozy days to be home, drink hot chocolate, watch an old movie. Gratitude always.
ReplyDeleteAwww...yes indeed..and a dog who loves you :)
ReplyDelete