Regardless of the time of day,
or if a tempest's rain is cold,
my mind will wander to the place
where first we met, that quaint cafe,
when both our lives were still on hold;
we hadn't had our first embrace.
The world had left me to embrace
a job I suffered through each day,
no inspiration taking hold,
relentless as a common cold.
But in this picturesque cafe
my life was never out of place.
I hadn't known that in this place
I'd found a reason to embrace
my future and this old cafe.
I made my mind up on this day
that though the season's turning cold,
the promise of its warmth I'd hold.
A notion started, keeping hold,
that there was something in this place
which bore the brunt of passions cold,
where many felt love's kind embrace,
escaping from their trying day--
I'd someday own this aged cafe.
The atmosphere of my cafe,
an ambiance of which would hold
the patrons' kindness through the day-
this would be the only place
to offer all a warm embrace,
a lively shelter from the cold.
Through summer's drought and winter's cold,
my friends would come to my cafe
to help each other, love, embrace
camaraderie, while couples hold
each other, like no other place
to spend their lives day after day.
I longingly embrace the cold
and greet the day in our cafe,
take hold of this, our perfect place.
Jack has published over 350 poems in his career, many accompanied by his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana.