From my work table in the Cottage Gallery, sounds drift by ...
a symphony of delight.
Leaves whispering in the wind outside the window.
Suppressed giggles and loud guffaws.
The insistent, abrasive ring of the telephone.
Footsteps ...
the shuffle of bare feet;
the slapping of jandals;
the clickety-clack of heels on the mosaic tiles.
Snippets of one-sided conversations.
The hiss of the kettle.
The hum of a distant sander.
The whirr of the sewing machine.
The avian symphony in the pohutakawas.
And that is while I am here ...
Just imagine the cacophony after dark
when the dolls come out to play:-)
a symphony of delight.
Leaves whispering in the wind outside the window.
Suppressed giggles and loud guffaws.
The insistent, abrasive ring of the telephone.
Footsteps ...
the shuffle of bare feet;
the slapping of jandals;
the clickety-clack of heels on the mosaic tiles.
Snippets of one-sided conversations.
The hiss of the kettle.
The hum of a distant sander.
The whirr of the sewing machine.
The avian symphony in the pohutakawas.
And that is while I am here ...
Just imagine the cacophony after dark
when the dolls come out to play:-)