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.