deepundergroundpoetry.com
Full Bohemian and a Yard Full Of Dogs
I want to grow old
in a cottage made of stone,
far away from the troubles
of unkempt connections
and social faux pas,
near a lazily flowing creek
that taps it’s wand on the rocks,
conducting a soft and sweet melody;
the mornings will arrive slowly,
sunshine caressing my skin
with its warm, strong hands
I want to sing loudly
silly, made-up songs
competing with the birds
from the painted metal sink
in my clapboard kitchen,
a kaleidoscope of tapestry rugs
and tiny, Swiss dot curtains
dancing on the the breeze;
I will make too-strong coffee
on the temperamental old stove,
growing herbs in my windows
creating old-earth magic
at my worn wood counters
I will plot out my days
consulting my most trusted advisors,
the kinds of souls with four legs
and knowing eyes that tell stories;
they very well may be revered
as man’s best friend,
but a woman has never known
a more loyal companion,
and never a better keeper
of her secrets;
and so I shall rescue
a yard full of dogs
that transform into a bed full
as we sleep soundly
and dream of chasing rabbits
we never intend to catch
I will waste away the afternoons
in a decadent red velvet chair,
filling volume after volume
with the hedonistic thoughts
of my fleeting youth;
I will fondly recall the days
when I was the star of my own tales,
weighing all the wrong I committed
against all the right I achieved,
finding balance in the mix
I will welcome the lines that map
the landscape of my face
and redefine my knowledge
of what is beautiful,
with silver hair flowing
down my back
ancient denim overalls
stained with paint
from a thousand projects
I may or may not have finished,
my bare feet kissing the floor
with every step
in a cottage made of stone,
far away from the troubles
of unkempt connections
and social faux pas,
near a lazily flowing creek
that taps it’s wand on the rocks,
conducting a soft and sweet melody;
the mornings will arrive slowly,
sunshine caressing my skin
with its warm, strong hands
I want to sing loudly
silly, made-up songs
competing with the birds
from the painted metal sink
in my clapboard kitchen,
a kaleidoscope of tapestry rugs
and tiny, Swiss dot curtains
dancing on the the breeze;
I will make too-strong coffee
on the temperamental old stove,
growing herbs in my windows
creating old-earth magic
at my worn wood counters
I will plot out my days
consulting my most trusted advisors,
the kinds of souls with four legs
and knowing eyes that tell stories;
they very well may be revered
as man’s best friend,
but a woman has never known
a more loyal companion,
and never a better keeper
of her secrets;
and so I shall rescue
a yard full of dogs
that transform into a bed full
as we sleep soundly
and dream of chasing rabbits
we never intend to catch
I will waste away the afternoons
in a decadent red velvet chair,
filling volume after volume
with the hedonistic thoughts
of my fleeting youth;
I will fondly recall the days
when I was the star of my own tales,
weighing all the wrong I committed
against all the right I achieved,
finding balance in the mix
I will welcome the lines that map
the landscape of my face
and redefine my knowledge
of what is beautiful,
with silver hair flowing
down my back
ancient denim overalls
stained with paint
from a thousand projects
I may or may not have finished,
my bare feet kissing the floor
with every step
Published 10th Apr 2020
Author's Note
For Rachel: thank you for the inspiration 💜
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 4
comments 11
reads 418
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
11th Apr 2020 4:08am
This is just beautiful, I love the nostalgic descrptions that are so real that I can picture them and it is a serene scene..
11th Apr 2020 4:30am
I’ve had this dream for so long, sometimes I forget I haven’t been there. Thank you for reading and for your kind words 💜.
11th Apr 2020 5:23am
The more you can fulfill your own needs, the richer the life you can lead. The wealth of yourself
11th Apr 2020 6:59am
2nd Oct 2020 5:14am
Oh, this is just gorgeous... what a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL poem <3
This resonated with me so incredibly much, and you are just fantastic with your descriptive imagery.
Thanks for sending me this way. One of the best I've read in awhile :)
Can I join you? Heh
This resonated with me so incredibly much, and you are just fantastic with your descriptive imagery.
Thanks for sending me this way. One of the best I've read in awhile :)
Can I join you? Heh
2nd Oct 2020 5:42am
I’m glad you enjoyed it, NewB. Come on by and we’ll have tea in the garden 😊
10th Feb 2023 9:49pm
10th Feb 2023 10:02pm
11th Jan 2025 00:43am
Amen to visions and dreamers dreams of what should be, and in the heart, already is 🌼
11th Jan 2025 11:25am
Without our dreams, what would we be? Thank you so much for reading and commenting. This is one of my most favorite poems!
11th Jan 2025 2:34pm
Perhaps one day you and I (as well as others) shall live our dreams, and I wonder then what our ethereal hopes will be...
