And there are some afternoons,

And there are some afternoons
When the window beckons me
And I just there sit with a cup warm
Of coffee and a few books of poems and tales,
Afternoon before me how slowly like a charmer
Goes down the road , veiled by the soft light
After a squall and a few showery spell
How she goes, like a belle, down the road
As if to meet her love, the beauteous twilight,

And there are some afternoons when I just sit
At the window , with a cup of coffee and a few books of poems and tales.

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