Poem Hunter
BH (March 6,1952 / tulsa, ok.)


Poem By Barbara Haskell

to the smoker's corner,
oh, how lucky I am!
My vision rests upon feasts for the human eye;
there is the warm glow from the lamp,
casting its light upon the desk
and miniature birdhouses abound,
painted with sunflowers, cascading vines,
cute little birds and butterflies.
A glance out the window
to a landscape blanketed with trees.
Joker is in the corral, along with Andre, the goat,
Joker's pal.
Oh, yes, banished to the smoker's corner,
where a feast awaits the human eye.

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Comments (2)

That smoker's corner seem so bright and pleasant. Enjoyed the read. Scott
Hi Barb! Nice write! I just love those smokers corners! ** 10 **! Thad