Curling up
beneath a blanket warm.
On a rain
lashed night.
Watching a
film in black and white.
Coming in
exhausted, kicking off shoes.
Falling back
into the chair.
As someone
else hands you a cup of tea.
A parcel at
the door, quickly unwrapped.
The feel of
a new book in your hand.
The time to
sit and enjoy.
A brand new
note book.
Still clean
and bright.
Awaiting
stories you will write.
Small indulgences
these.
But oh what
joy they bring.
Little
things can mean a lot.
Inspired by Magaly Guerrero and her prompts for Aprils NaPoWriMo 2015.
3rd of April 2015
Indulgences
Craft a poem about spoiling your Self or the Self of another. Let decadence run wild.
Yes, they can! My Piano Man and I make the act of opening a new book into a ritual... full of smiles and giggles.
ReplyDeleteLove the gentleness of this poem.
I think if we lose the ability to cherish the little pleasures, we die a bit inside.
ReplyDeleteI love the little indulgences you chose. Sweet and endearing in the selection. *nod*
ReplyDeleteThese are too safe, too predictable. I feel like I'm missing the sneaks to the freezer at 2AM after you've just finished 3 hours of steady editing on a story that will never see the light of day. The fumbling around for the spoon that finally gets forsaken for the icy chill of a finger dip of Ben and Jerry's. Or...maybe that's just me. Seriously, this seems too safe to me.
ReplyDeleteIt's the fact they are safe and predictable that can make them indulgences. When the world starts feeling like it's spinning out of control a little cocoon of safety and predictable comfort can be the best indulgence of all.
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