The Porch

three chairsSometimes,

I just need

To sit

Out on

The porch

With my legs

Up on

The railing,

And allow

The sunshine

To work

Its magic.


I might look

A bit odd

Out here

Right now

In my robe

And slippers,

But I do

Feel comfortable!

Being cooped up

In the house

All day

With the flu

Is not

My idea

Of fun.

The porch,


Is a part

Of the house

That I truly


With happiness.

How may times,

Has this porch

Played host

To the

Most romantic


Of my life?

This porch

Always set

The perfect mood.

I’d wait

Out here

For love

To arrive.

She’d run

Up here

To greet me

With a hug

And kisses.

We’d sit

Out here

Holding hands,

Drinking wine,

Stealing glances,

Unwinding together

After another

Long day.

She might be

Far away,

But her love

Still lingers

Out on

The porch.


About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
This entry was posted in Humor, Love, Philosophy, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Porch

  1. Reblogged this on idealisticrebel and commented:
    You are wonderful and so are your images. Hugs, Barbara

  2. I’m a sucker for the poems :-). Loved it!

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