http://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=53&t=1813184&p=56338143&hilit=Coaldust#p56338143
A favorite place?
I have a lot of those,
but there's one -
and when it's just right,
that's when I feel perfectly at home.
There's this park,
it's a ten minute jog from my home,
but I go there all the time.
When the rain is falling
(not pouring, not spitting,
but an in between) enough
so that you feel the drops in your fur,
but you're not cold and soaking;
where you can still see the sun
peaking through the clouds,
but it's not blinding.
The wind is slow enough
to ruffle your fur, but not fast
enough to actually be a nuisance.
The park is, well, bland.
There's a play structure
I haven't used it in years,
it's nostalgic look is
great background scenery.
There's a pond that
some younger pups
will splash around in,
and even though I'm too old to do so,
I love to watch the pups,
their laughs are music,
their smiles are works of art.
There's also some statues
of people enjoying themselves,
dancing and smiling.
I don't see people that often,
but I see these statues all the time.
There's a swing set that
I like to sit on when I'm mad.
Just back and forth, back and forth.
Back and forth in the rain
and wind and sun -
flinging my cares away.
I feel like I'm flying,
up above my cares and
worries and problems.
There's also an
old wooden park bench,
underneath three majestic weeping
willows, almost concealed from the
world - hiding from my stress.
It's in that park that I can really thrive.
Underneath the willows on the park bench,
listening to pups laughing in the pond.
Above all my cares, flying high above the world
with rain in my mane.
A favorite place?
I have a lot of those,
but there's one -
and when it's just right,
that's when I feel perfectly at home.
There's this park,
it's a ten minute jog from my home,
but I go there all the time.
When the rain is falling
(not pouring, not spitting,
but an in between) enough
so that you feel the drops in your fur,
but you're not cold and soaking;
where you can still see the sun
peaking through the clouds,
but it's not blinding.
The wind is slow enough
to ruffle your fur, but not fast
enough to actually be a nuisance.
The park is, well, bland.
There's a play structure
I haven't used it in years,
it's nostalgic look is
great background scenery.
There's a pond that
some younger pups
will splash around in,
and even though I'm too old to do so,
I love to watch the pups,
their laughs are music,
their smiles are works of art.
There's also some statues
of people enjoying themselves,
dancing and smiling.
I don't see people that often,
but I see these statues all the time.
There's a swing set that
I like to sit on when I'm mad.
Just back and forth, back and forth.
Back and forth in the rain
and wind and sun -
flinging my cares away.
I feel like I'm flying,
up above my cares and
worries and problems.
There's also an
old wooden park bench,
underneath three majestic weeping
willows, almost concealed from the
world - hiding from my stress.
It's in that park that I can really thrive.
Underneath the willows on the park bench,
listening to pups laughing in the pond.
Above all my cares, flying high above the world
with rain in my mane.
