Originally posted on The Word Wranglers Writing Group 2002

The day was plain brown bread:
Nourishing, substantial.
A peaceful day. No crises loomed,
My work went well enough.
Such days are rare; to ask for more
Would seem ingratitude.
Along the road, the green and gold of grasses
Melts into the muted green of trees.
A pastoral, lacking but a cow or two.
Perhaps the backdrop for an empty stage?
Enter, stage right –
An exuberance of roses foaming over a back yard fence,
A galaxy of wildflowers drifting through a grassy cosmos,
The sinuous curves of madronas, glowing copper in the sun.
The visual fanfare startles me awake.
Images of beauty all around me
Burst upon my senses, fill my mind.
The wonder of it overflows my heart.
But that was Just the overture:
A prelude to the radiance of your smile.