Soft gray cloudy days
Nights with far off thunder
And cool misty drifting fog
Is comforting to me
As my granddaddy’s
feather bed

Snuggled deep and warm
Watching the fire flicker
In the old wood stove
The creak of rocking chairs
And quiet murmuring voices
The child remembers

http://www.triond.com/rw/6239 click here to publish your poetry or other articles and earn income.

If you liked the above you might like the following.

http://authspot.com/poetry/little-brown-house/

http://authspot.com/poetry/barefoot-girls

http://authspot.com/poetry/august-evening/

http://authspot.com/poetry/a-beckoning-call/

http://authspot.com/poetry/yesterday-and-today/