Love Poem: I Love These Things

I Love These Things

Sunday morning...especially a rainy
one - when the smoke stacks are sleeping.
Institutions sit quietly musing - the only
chance they have.
The dark, warm sleep stirs.
Sunday morning...I rise feeling like God.
I love these things.

Time is mine...on the table lies 
the morning paper.
I eat every word...and take the
leisure to digest them.
Silence pours over me like a
hot shower on a cold night.
I love these things.

Marshmallows floating on hot chocolate,
Crisp leaves floating in slow motion
to cover a quiet earth.
White curtains embracing a bay window.
I love these things.