Pine cones clustered under dark green boughs.
How wise and calm the young can be.
With giant paws the lion kneads the undulating stone, his purr the merest undertone.
None of us would say we’re at our all time best.
I don’t knock anyone over as I weave and dodge, marking the concourse with my sweat.
By now everyone is well acquainted with the summer’s sweltering heat.
Maybe stranger is a concept we acquire with age.
I’ve got nothing but time on a Sunday afternoon.
I believe cool feet can sometime be a little bit like a drug.
Meringue base and cream filling topped with chestnut spread.