Oh, how I love a Sunday afternoon nap in early spring.
When the brisk breeze broaches the threshold of the window screen.
And laying my head upon the cool pillow
Betrays the intent of this beautiful day.
As the season breaths on me
I begin inhaling the fresh purified air
Setting my lungs free
And putting my body at ease
Allowing my mind to wander and dream.
And…I can hear a great symphony
Of birds, gathering unto their own,
And singing songs…each in their own key
Upon the branches of the naked trees.
Oh, how I wish every day could be
Like this Sunday afternoon
In early spring.