Grays are Lies
To write with the dawn,
sky’s to rise to brilliant eyes.
To her I am drawn.
Sunday mornings are:
times of quiet and peaceful rest,
shared zest, feeling best.
We Are We
We are as we are.
We’re at the place that we are.
We choose who we are.
With bay breezes to call our own,
we savored the scents of flora unknown.
We explored a “cottage” of comfort and beauty,
though none as splendid as the beauty with me.
With green eyes glowing and blonde hair flowing,
hand in hand our two hearts knowing.
We’ve art and nature and the joy it brings,
a victrola played and to me she sings.