Southern Waltz

Soft sunlight spills lovingly into 

the room, the glass cups reflecting

colors quietly. There was laughing

and playing, the notes coming for 

their archaic songs, with lullabies 

from

distant

dreams.

Scent of spaghetti and spice drift 

through the air, the salt shaking 

to the soup’s alluring melody, the 

plates complimenting silver spoons 

and forks. Trembling hands for scarlet

cups, comfort to the afternoon, and

banquets

sighing

helplessly. 

They keep going, with their never 

ending dance, the call of evening not 

far. They’re mad, then they forget,

then they laugh again, without a 

care.

They linger near, their minds 

far away,

their hearts

never

forgotten.

Reviews

[KTizzle]

this is beautiful! I loved the dancing of ordinary things coming together to make a memory. I especially loved the first line because when I think of sunlight hitting a cup and making colors, it makes me think of the quote about seeing the cup as half full or empty. The sunlight cuts through the cup and drenches in color all aspects of life.

Lovely write.

Thanks for posting!

- Jazz