The mellow grass deliberately spreads
A carpet green to house we used to own.
Did mason lay down happiness instead
Of bricks? Or maybe smells of bread and home?
But slouchy of the old and tattered city
I here approach the memories of childhood
Where crust of crunchy loaf was taking pity
On precious golden jewels and shiny diamonds.
And see how clean and bright is yet the room
When patiently I kneel below the furnace.
As nobody is bigger than the bread.
Although the sunset rays begin to bloom,
The house we used to own keeps love enduring.
My grandma's smile will light me up instead.
© Миглена Миткова Todos los derechos reservados