A drop of rain on a windowsill,
Moonlight shining in the street.
The taste of laughter on a good friend's lips,
waves that pound upon a beach.
The smell of home in a small book shop,
running to an endless reach.
That cool first taste of a newfallen snow,
the grate of fingers across a tree.
A smell of roses, beech, and soil,
the blissful innocence of a child that seeks.
The writer, writing, alone in the dark,
an artist creating a world that breathes.
Nails, tapping on a counter-top,
Standing and watching a dawn that rings.
A cool sip of water on a hot summer day,
a pray to the gods who halt spring's rain.