The Afterglow

I slept much better, woke refreshed, reluctant arms and legs uncurled

The light more nuanced, colours vivid, air of motes that spun and twirled

My jumper soft against my skin with patterned stitch of knit and purl

I gaze as raindrops trail the window, snaking rivers, different worlds

The smell of bacon slowly grilling, invisible tendrils reached my nose

Exquisite taste of salty butter, licked from knife as yearning grows

A crunch of toast, its pillowy centre, fermenting joy of soured dough

With grease-slicked fingers sucked quite clean, then soapy smell of musky rose

I feel no need for other voices, silence fills my heart and soul

The calm of still, the joy of quiet; It’s strange that silence makes me whole

Not book, nor radio calls my name, TV stands silent, its picture stole

Yet natures sounds don’t overwhelm, its sweet tranquillity fits my goal

I gaze for hours at swathes of flowers, enchanted by their sight and sway

Their nodding heads and lazy dance seduce me at the end of day

The fractal ferns, impossibly perfect, chameleon fronds emerge from clay

Whilst evening hues of peach and raspberry shift and glow in sundown rays