Rest

I lie prone on my bed

my head placed precisely in the dip

at the centre of the pillow.

Eyes closed

I listen to the sussurus of the wind

soughing through the young trees

in the courtyard garden.

Overhead, in the clouded sunshine above

an aeroplane drones

following its pattern, weaving like a flashing silver needle

through the fabric of the sky

darting towards the golden button of the sun.

Teenagers talk, laugh, shout and flirt

as they walk through the streets below

relaxed in the soft July caress of summer

while motorists sweat and complain

drumming their thumbs on open windows

waiting to be home,

for the commute to be done,

the suburban race home won.

A flash of tortoiseshell fur, a welcoming purr

and my cat curls against my back

content in a patch of sun.

I smile, and stroke her side

gliding my fingers along her back.

She tilts her face, rubs her whiskers against my arm

And we fall asleep, safe and warm.

 

A poem that I wrote thinking about lazy summer holiday days…..

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