The Little Things

When it comes to life’s little pleasures,

some are more extravagant than others;

Perhaps exotic in pursuit and sporadic in measure-

Such are pleasures that others might treasure.

As for a creature of habit, routine

And a habitual homebody like me,

All I need to make each new day a dazzling dream are

The rousing constants inhabiting my daily scheme.

Be that the searing beads of serenity

Saturating my weary bones so splendidly...

Or the musky aroma of a steadfast summer rain

Seeping through the dodgy, decrepit window pane….

The rain… oh the rain, I shall most enjoy…

Although not by myself, but with a favored boy.

His hands- well they will softly stroke my shy, satin skin

And soon- my cheek brushes against his brisk, bristled chin.

This is a most treasured and dear time

For this pulsating body and beating heart of mine.

For next, our lips once again align- an act I never

Tire from- for it’s always as succulent as the first time.

These and more are the sparks in my soul-

The flicker of hope on days most dark and dull.

Life’s little indulgences are nothing short of inspired,

For in the end, they are what ignite the internal fire.