The trees that stand in the pale moonlight,
Sand washed by eternal seas,
A coyote's call on a dark, starry night,
A lover desiring to please.

Coffee hot when the morning's cold,
A cold beer in the heat of the Sun,
The hug of a child when you're growing old,
A story that's artfully spun.

The pleasures are simple, but the list is long,
Don't be afraid to look or to feel.
Play your cards while the game's still on,
For your chair might be empty next deal.

Written 10/15/1999
Copyright 2018
By Donovan Baldwin