I was born to sit
In the evening sunshine
On my front door step
A Gin and Tonic
Sheltering in the shadow
Cast by the door frame
A Reporter's Pad
And a sharp Blackwing pencil
Old John Steinbeck's pride
Small moments of peace
Feed my creativity
And ease my old bones
These moments of peace
Need to be stored and cherished
Lest the winter comes
Copyright © Res Burman 8th June 2019
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