His Cinnamon House
by James Dean Chase
Scent of cinnamon
wafts into his house
with the Autumn air
through the open door
as he peeks outside
to catch a quick glimpse.
The lone Unicorn
walking in the woods
near the green garden
full of bright flowers
spies his hazel eyes
shining in the Sun.
She shakes her shied head
returning his stare
turning as to go
though stopping instead
to rest in roses
their petals her bed.
He closes his door
and softly he sings
a light lullaby
for his forest friend
whose scent is filling
his cinnamon house.
volume 10(6)
This poem is copyright © 2003,
James Dean Chase, all rights reserved.
Find more poems by James Dean Chase.
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