Twilight

There is a house up on the hill
The yard is fenced and green
There are regal, shade giving trees and even a little windmill
The shutters are pulled back letting light in pristine

Walking up to this house up on the hill
With each step the gravel crunches under feet
With the sound ringing of birds chirping shrill
Wooing me with the escaping smell of something sweet

I am a guest in this house up on the hill
I am expected but walk slowly to the door
I crunch the gravel, bask in the shade, twirl the windmill
Inquiring to no one but myself why I feel I've been here before

Looking to the door I knock firmly but not too hard
Learning quickly audacity is rarely present here
Loved by that smile, welcome mat under feet, I enter and leave the yard
Longing to make the dream of this house a reality so clear

Inside this house up on the hill
I exchange pleasantries and make small talk
Indifferent to the scattered toys and table piled with bills
Inviting others in, growing the din of conversation, I excuse myself for a walk

Green too is the backyard of this house up on the hill
Graced serenely by twilight sky and aqua blue pool
Going down the patio steps taking it in, the night promises to chill
Giving my pockets hands to hold I walk to the fence as the sky fills with jewels

How do I feel welcome in this house up on the hill?
Hell, its more then welcome, its down right familiar
Hoping to find the journey’s end here in Pleasantville
Holding my life’s breath without the oxygen of her

Turning back to the door the twilight has matured to night
Taking my hands out of my pockets I retrace my steps
Trading night sky for lamp shaded light
This feeling is familiar but not mine quite yet