dreams

One day, I want a house with a white picket fence. A house with a big front porch where I can drink sweet tea sprigged with mint from a heavy hobnail glass. I want nice big porch swing, as big as a daybed, with a nice bright cushion for lazy days of lounging.

I want wooden floors, old furniture and things that tell a story from a time before me. I want a bright sunny kitchen with a farmhouse sink and a breakfast nook. I want a library. A library with stacks and stacks of books--old, new, and all containing that bookish smell that promises adventure and excitement.

I want to plant a tree in my yard and watch it grow. I want redbud, magnolia, dogwood trees. I want to grow something beautiful, some thing useful. I want to pick a tomato off of the vine in the summertime and eat it fresh. I want rainy days and starry nights.

I know these dreams don't have a place in my life right now. But later. These dreams are for later.

Photo from dlanham's photostream on Flickr.