Poem 15:Tranquillity

Tranquility

The cool air brushes my cells.

And the rain patterns the window.

Pit. Pat. Pit.

The embers of the re dance.

And the chair creaks with my weight. Pit. Pat. Pit.

A purring in my ear.

The companion of a book in my hands. Pit. Pat. Pit.

The energy is still.

No sudden movement nor sound.

This is tranquility.

Pit. Pat. Pit.

My pulse is steady.

The words ow from pages into me.

Pit. Pat. Pit.

The cottage sighs.

All the age and water making their mark. Pit. Pat. Pit.