I can smell the sultry smoke
From the lazy log fire
But I’d like to see it curl and climb
Higher and higher.
I can feel the silken touch
Of a baby’s chubby cheeks
I’d like to see expressions change
As she gurgles and shrieks.
I can taste the sour and sweet
As they sit tickling on my tongue
I’d like to see the luscious grapes
In tempting clusters hung.
I can hear the sound of waves
As they crash against the shore
But I’d like to see the setting sun
Cross the dusky door.
So pass them on to one like me
When for you their work is done
And thus from where a story ends
A novel would have begun.