A cool breeze and gentle rays of sun
Fall upon our rocking chairs of teak
Where we while away the morning
Listening to the songbirds sing
Their alluring melodies of yearning
Searching persistently for the one…
The mate who lives to sing to only them.
Our rose bushes swell with blooms of pink.
April rains bring luscious lawns of green.
Ground doves feed among the blades of grass
Where birdseed falls from bulging feeders
Shaken by an occasional squawking Jay
Or a shameful furry tail of red or grey
Chattering praises for long awaited Spring.
No longer in the Springtime of our lives
Days pass more slowly than they once did.
Nights are shorter than they once were.
Lingering moments are more abundant
Bringing sounds of silence rich with abiding love
Proven by days of tears and days of joy
Which dispel the worries of the world.
© Phyllis Weeks Rogers 4/16/2018