Home

I'll sit with you in the early hours of morning

at the dimly lit kitchen table.

You can drink your black coffee,

I'll ask for a sip.

You may secretly watch me,

but it's no secret, I'll catch your glance.

And we'll tell corny jokes until dawn.

Your arm around me,

shaking with laughter.

 

 And we'll be

     home.

 

Reviews

[N_a_t_i_a]

this poem transforms me directly into that kitchen and let's me watch this warming scene... nothing better than the feeling of coming home. lovely write..