Every Week I Choose My Numbers

Every Week I Choose My Numbers

Every week I choose my numbers,

holding hope within my hand,

tiny dreams upon a ticket,

building castles in the sand.

Perhaps this week will be the moment,

the one I’ve waited for so long—

the day the stars all smile together,

and life begins a sweeter song.

I’d buy a little cosy cottage,

with roses climbing by the door;

a sunny little conservatory,

where I could sit for evermore.

A garden filled with birds and blossoms,

a bench beneath an apple tree,

a place where every morning whispers,

This little home was meant for me.

A room where I can lose the hours,

crafting treasures with delight;

paint and ribbons, yarn and glitter,

bringing simple dreams to life.

Another room for precious visits,

waiting just for little feet,

grandchildren filling every corner,

making every day complete.

No grand mansion on a hillside,

no palace reaching to the sky—

just a home that’s wrapped in kindness,

where peaceful years can wander by.

So every week I’ll keep believing,

choosing numbers with a smile,

because sometimes hope is all we need

to help us walk another mile.

And if those lucky numbers find me,

you’ll hear my grateful heart declare,

I’ve found the little home I’ve dreamed of,

and love is waiting there.

If my words have touched your heart, and you’ve enjoyed my poetry, a small goodwill gesture would be deeply appreciated. Your kindness helps me continue doing what I love. Thank you for reading. 🌹