Somewhere grass is being cut.
You can hear it from early in the morning.
I am whisked awake,
by the sound of my mother vacuuming.
Like always the house is in shambles.
It's Saturday.
My mother cleans.
If you open the window,
the smell of fresh cut grass grazes your nose.
And the sound of cars greet your ears.
Today,
Is a happy day.
A day of rest,
Of lazy luxury,
And fluffy pillows.
Today,
I write a bit, read a bit...
Watch something.
Today....
11/03/2017
YOU ARE READING
Melpomene
PoetryHighest Rating: #596 in Poetry! Poetry collection of my own poems. Please enjoy! "Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." -Leonardo da Vinci "A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a s...
