Spanish Street

 A street

A street of sleepy villas

Baking in the sun

Empty of their owners

Til the summer comes.

Each one securely guarded

By glass on walls and lofty gates

Shutters shutting out the light 

No sign of life by day or night. 

Or tomorrow or last week -

Splendid in detachment 

Gleaming marble glistens

In the Spanish sun. 

Some sparkling villas cost a million

And some cost much much more

What a pity when I knock 

That nobody’s at home. 

All we need when all is said

Is a terrace and a comfy bed

A kettle to make the morning coffee

And peace will surely follow.   

A daily tonic to view a sky

Blue and cloudless and a sea

That cheers and raises spirits

Brings joy and serendipity.