TUDOR COTTAGE

Me_cafe_rougeby Jake Murray24 Jun 2014

TUDOR COTTAGE

You know the experience.
The car stops in the country.
In the distance, 
Hills and fields
Stretch out to the horizon. 
Winter or summer, the sight
Fills the heart, lungs drink
Deep on clean air, beating
Like wings of a rising bird
In the breast, 
Intoxicated. 
Sleep will come easy. A warm
Bed beckons in the evening.
Winter or summer, the daylight
Catches differently, 
Blue and gold
For one, 
Cold and crystal for the other,
But the eye revels in each.
In the field, 
Two horses sidle, 
Grazing, noble bearing bent
By age, but dignified eyes
Momentarily interested in new arrivals. 
Elsewhere rabbits, trees and fences,
Cottages and solitude and days
Spent ringed by a halo of
Peace. 
Morning and waking, 
Kettle boiling, gentle talk 
In the rolling hours. A different rhythm.
Food in the evenings, company
And conversation,  wine and 
Contemplation;
And outside, 
Calm, as if spirits play about
The hillside, healing about
The house where you sleep
Or stand smiling in the doorway;
No fighting, no noise, nothing to see
But nightfall unwinding like
A blue and dark sheet drawn
Across the skyline, stars glinting
As the day sings the sun.