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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Experience >> ID #1210613 |
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Taking a trip to San Juan Capistrano
merely as a bit of playful capriccio, I seek a break from my hectic routine just as the swallows begin to convene. Awakened by the song of the swallows, I raise my head from billowing pillows to greet a new day at this vacation villa, with its glistening snow-capped mountain vista. The sun’s ray peeks brightly through the window overlooking the rolling verdant meadow as I shuffle lazily to the shower before walking to the breakfast bower. There a sensational spread awaits, I know. The bold aroma of fresh-brewed espresso, croissants, and crunchy almond biscotti make my indulgences seem almost naughty. I take a cuppa white-hooded cappuccino out to enjoy the view from the patio. A clear crystal flower vase sparkles in sunlight as I soak in the sight of swallows in flight. Too soon, my spring sabbatical must end. Like the migrating swallow, I intend to return next year to San Juan Capistrano for another cuppa hooded cappuccino.
© Copyright 2007 Dave (UN: drschneider at Writing.Com).
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