Warm Autumn nights
Spent under the spotty sky
Are my favorite.
The ones when I am wrapped up
In your music and
The sound of mindless chatter
Is devoured by the copper strings
Of your mandolin.
The breeze blows through the trees
And through my hair,
Carrying soothing thoughts
Straight to my soul.
The moon peaks her face above
The black hills
And slowly climbs into the clouds.
The light shines on us,
Illuminating fingers and instrument
And showing the world
How much you make me smile.
YOU ARE READING
CCCLXV - Poetry (Part 2)
PoesiaPart 2 of my 365--this year: 366--challenge. A poem a day for a year.
