Now we have rearranged the furniture
there’s a different view that does surprise us.
We watch the neighbour as he rises,
he sure looks mean (maybe a murderer?)
We have a sight on traffic overspill,
unexpected visitors and mail.
They can not bother us with their assail;
we hide in time under the windowsill.
But from my new position I can’t see
the worry lines I always find in you,
the greyness of your eyes, or is it blue:
all what still makes the best of views to me.
Let’s move and shift the old stuff back in place;
I only want to see your lovely face. ❤
900 followers now, thanks all!