vineri, 22 august 2014

The book of tea

A nice tea party in the garden
With big glasses and small tea cups
With sweets that cannot be pardoned
And words of life’s close-ups.
A nice Friday afternoon with
Chilly weather and errand leaves
A golden sun tainting the houses
Of all ages, becoming a myth
With beautiful windows, rusty eaves
And white curtains sheltering the glasses.
The body relaxed, the mind went flying
To all ages, moments written in the book
The one of life, of the present you’re defying
Because you stopped and took a look.

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