The path of grass wends slowly to the entrance of this place,
And flowers lay in accent to its beauty and its grace.
The calmness of the dusk breaks at the peak of wooden roof
and, with elegance of style, stands proud in homage to the proof
of times that had the leisure to watch the world go slowly by,
all lost now, in the future that is racing, as we fly
to catch up with ourselves – a hard-won lesson that we learn,
that Beauty’s face is something that needs time to look upon.
Written 2009. Published with Poetry.com, 2013.
The Night Owl 