Serendipity

She spent the early morning dripping sunlight

onto café doors

Colouring wafts of fresh croissants in shades of peach

and apricot

She woke the earthworms with a tickle

on their bellies

and gave perk to the dewed-daisy stalks

peeking through stones.

A heavy-footed businessman trods one underfoot

It springs back

at the rise of his boot

and no one hears the tinkle of the sun's laughter

as the man stops

by a nearby water-feature

and reaches out a hand

A rainbow appears - glistening - in the spray

and he runs a finger across the ark,

marking the first silent pleasure of the morning.

A bright-eyed woman in a long black-coat stops

to pat a cat

bathing in a sun spot

She carries coffee in one hand

and strokes its fur with the other.

"Hello," she says

It responds

by nestling its nose into her pocket

She lets out a laugh, warm like bubble-bath

and takes an impish glance between waking patrons

She digs into her pocket and procures an offering;

a buttered croissant

"Just this once"

she lies

and it’s the first spoken pleasure

of the morning.

When the woman finds herself at a crowded bar

she orders her usual

and then changes her mind

"A tall glass of wine;"

it suits her character tonight

She spy's the moon's reflection in the bulbous surface

and traces a finger ‘round his pulsing body.

A man at the bar tells a table of listeners

that he'd caught a rainbow

earlier that morning.

"Bullshit," they say

But he laughs like a symphony

and the sound resides

in his whiskey glass

where he spies the eyes

of a curious watcher

drawing circles

in her wine.

Their eyes meet

murky in the liquor

like a moonlight mirage

across melted sand turned glass

and they share a chuckle

like a rolling dune

and it marks the first of many

mutual pleasures.