Life's Simple Pleasures

simple pleasures


Birds lined up on the telegraph wires,
black puffs against iced blue sky,
airplane lines fight their battles above,
sun's low rays catch jagged edged plough-grooves.

Brakes squeal in the car park, lean out the window,
ask how I am, do I want to have a cup of tea,
make me smile, the first time in days,
show you care, and I know you are a friend.

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, cushions cosying,
fleecy blanket mummy-wrapped, tucked round me,
my favourite book, the one I always return to,
scented afternoon of wooden burner heat.

The moment before our lips touch, feel the tingle of air,
your hands pull me close and that is all there is,
while coffee steams and oozes between us,
the simplest of pleasure: the story already written.