WEEKEND MORNING
The darkness left the skies upon morrows entrance
revealing the bombardment of rain while I had slept
and the air was fresh and crisp, with a hint of moss
as I arrived from civilization into the rugged nature
my morning ritual at weekends, which I do not brake
a short drive by car into the wilderness, of freedom
where true reality lies, and no lies are told nor heard
here I observe the morning’s yawn, while it wakes
so I take up a Red Marlboro cigarette, give it flame
to draw my nicotine smoke, with it’s dash of risk
breathe away nostalgic memories of cigarette days
but this morning had a special painting displayed
here the sun set it’s light to the limitless raindrops
sitting so comfortably on leaves of trees and grass
like a thousand diamonds sitting happy and proud
loving the attention as much a beautiful woman
the scene leaving me in awe and glad that I came
at my shelter of solitude, enjoying my cigarette.
