Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
Daniel A. Stafford | 9/2/2000 11:00:55 AM 10/14/2022 9:19:39 AM | 920 |
Tree House Nights
Late in the evening, the music plays low,
There's a special place my love and I used to go.
We called it the tree house, because of it's feel,
And moments spent there were sweet and surreal.
Just a balcony off a small apartment, shaded by tree branches.
Stars would peek and twinkle through branches,
And at the right times, the Man In The Moon also dances,
In a space behind the leaves, a corner of the eye scene.
Two chairs, a wooden table, visions in between.
Warm summer nights, candles behind hurricane glass aglow.
Tree House, I miss you, you know.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000
Author's Comments
The last place I lived, in the summer, the one summer we had there, this was the center of the place. At least for us. The walls were brick, and we were between two rows of buildings along the courtyard, rows of three storied buildings with balconies, a small patch of sky along between. Airplanes Twinkling like UFO's as they made way across the night skies in numerous travels to distant lands. My brother lived with me there, he would sit out at night playing guitar, or better yet the blues on harmonica. (He is really good at that.) Or Saren & I would sit out listening to music and talking...I loved it.
Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
Daniel A. Stafford | 9/2/2000 11:00:55 AM 10/14/2022 9:19:39 AM | 920 |
Total Comments: 3
Comments | |||
Daniel A. Stafford | aqmstaffo@mailbag.com | 9/2/2000 11:08:52 AM | |
Summer 1999 | |||
Janine Daniel | spinnys@hotmail.com | www.spinnys.com | 9/4/2000 12:47:11 PM |
You've weaved your special kind of magic again Dan. I love this poem. | |||
Joan Foesenek | area51@brunnet.net | 9/5/2000 6:15:25 PM | |
I really loved this poem, it made me smile keep up the good work.. |