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How Peaceful, This Night

by Cynthia Proctor
Tea cup in hand, I carefully open the wooden screened door
making my way 'round the side table, to my favorite chair...
an oversized, carved, oak rocker.
The muted floral back pillow, a little worn, is so comfortable.
From my porch, I smile and enjoy the sweetness
in the cup of freshly brewed mint tea,
while being lulled by the tranquil landscape.
This time of year, so beautiful, as life renews itself
turning barren branches into soft spring greenery
inviting colorful song birds to nest.
The early bulbs have sprouted, sprinkling pastel hues
extending from the distant cracked-white gateway
and cascading around the rock footpath, leading to my porch.
Down the road a way, I hear the neighbor call her little ones to supper.
Placing the tea cup on the lace doily, adorning the table
my hand skims over my favorite book...
my book of memories, from long ago and far away.
Oh, I've forgotten my glasses. Are they on the bed stand, or....??
Well... no matter... I'm forever misplacing something.
Still, my mind cradles these images with unfaded clarity
and remembers a time when I could waltz on the breeze.
Feeling the evening air, I draw my shawl closer.
My aging companion, so peaceful, now rests, curled up on my lap.
Her fluffy, silver fur reflects the rose and violet sunset.
So beautiful... the coming of this night, as heaven displays her lights.
How gentle, this night...
taking me back to a night long ago.
How peaceful, this night...

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