Anointed with rest. Slow, succulent: the dark of each eye widens, tidal; in pours precious light. All senses connect, recline, spill joyous as a hot tub with too many people in it.
Heat in the dust of the throat, where the cough tugs through.
Honeyed and spiced, fruits and milks pour solace.
Solitude; everyone else is at work but not me.
There is me and the dog and this sofa and a book. In the afternoon we felt the sun on our faces. A white gold welt all the way from the centre of our universe.
Somewhere in the Rayburn potatoes bake. Salted, oiled, affordable.
Steam from green leaves whispers under a pan lid.
Cobwebs have gathered dust: Hausfrau Spiders live here.
Sleep gathers, is caught in blinks. 


Dixie@dcrelief said…
Sounds like dinner will be ready, soon as the napping is done.
You and dog enjoy the read time quiet.
Lisa Southard said…
Actually having a lovely time being ill now- odd but true!
Geo. said…
Rest and recover, Lisa. There are marvels awaiting your attention.
The Cranky said…
Sometimes we are given moments in which to truly rest, but it often takes being ill to garner our attention for it.
Suze said…
I like Geo.'s words. And second them. :)
Lisa Southard said…
You are all so lovely :-) This little batch of ill has been a secret boon. Feeling ready for some convalescence!

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