Sundays Spent
Inside the stately coffee shop The cool of breeze seeps in Between the doors pulled open And brushes o'r your chin. Strangers note the time change With the wrinkles on their mind That creep out through their deep blue eyes Upon sidewalks you might find. The stream sweetens simple scenery Their chats mix a mellow melt Her smile sings of surrender While his touch is barely felt. Her cup pours milky mousse as such Tasting the whites of pure And swallows glancing all around Reveals the Sunday cure. CNK