My home, reduced to an empty nest,
My children eagerly gone their way.
The hours of driving without a rest
Melted like snow on a summer’s day.
I breathe in deeply, this kind of hush
My companion in apparent peace.
Gone the frenzy of a constant rush;
Hail, the chance to write my masterpiece.
Laptop, fire, and tea set the stage
My long-imagined moment of bliss
Crumbles, not from fear of the blank page,
But from a soul coveting those I miss.