points of light

points of light,
coded messages,
from above.
are,
siphoned through
the dappled green eucalypt.
to become,
shafts of god's grace,
that tickle and play,
hide and seek
with the contours
of your
handsome face,
weekend stubbled
and lax within,
the shadows of sleep's
suburban fringe.

curled up on your lap.
your child, golden,
halo haired, head asleep.
ear at your heart's designation.
hand anchored in the
flannel of your shirt,
foot tucked into,
your trouser pocket,
a little loving, limpet,
attatched to you.

you,
and the little you,
lie in the deck chair.
quiet and together in repose

the remains of lunch...
now crumbled fodder,
for busy trails of ants
and the lazy bee's of bumble,
hovering above.

and book reading's are open,
unfunished,
scattered on the table.....
along with the cat,
perched imperial,
on one, ant free corner.

standing watch,
over, his dozing clowder....

this is ... the wonder of,
a sleepy sunday's,
afternoon naptime.