The pitch of the roof is not so steep
Yet steep enough I dare not sleep
For though it would be nice to drowse
Way up here atop the house
With a sinking sun in the west
And my body finally at rest
On shingles warm from midday sun
Though the cool of night has begun
The pitch of the roof is far to steep
For me to even think of sleep.
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2 comments:
So that's where you go when you disappear!~
When this ol' world starts getting me down and people are just to much for me to face. I climb right up to the top of the stairs and all my cares just drift right into space. On the roof it's peaceful as can be, and there the world below can't bother me.
Up on the roof!
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