Soft days of wistful timelessness
Iridescent wings outside my window
The smell of honeysuckle so thick you can taste it
Red berries stain my lips
Your fingers in my mouth, sticky
I hum with the magic of freedom
With the audacity of leaving the cold, hard, buildings of success
For warm honey moons and foxglove dreams
Sponge cake afternoons and bare feet on cool wood decks
Unrestrained laughter and ukulele strings
A harmony that bends and then corrects itself
The music and rhythm of a slow life, unbound.
