A Man and His Pipe

The old chair creaks as I lean back,

The night’s glow fills the room.

A little trail of smoke gently curls upwards,

The aroma of cedar, scotch and autumn fill the air.

All is at peace in the world tonight,

Just a man and his pipe.

by Ben

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This entry was posted on September 15, 2008 at 9:56 pm and is filed under Poetry . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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Ben’s Musings and Poetry

A Man and His Pipe

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