I sat in my room, dimly lit
scent of rich mahogany in all corners
covering the walls and the ceiling paneled
books of literature assembled neatly
untouched on heavy wooden shelves
that chair rocked occasionally
fueled by some air from under the door planks
on the table a little high on the side
sat the gold brown rotary phone
seldom it rang with a few heavy rings
on the hand carved rich wooden consoles
the caretaker had kept a bouquet of flowers
their fragrance mingling well with the polish on my table
I take a deep breath to live its flavor
I put the gramophone to work to play a sensuous tune
in a fine glass, poured me a double of my English whisky
sipped slowly the flavor that burnt my throat
a ritual that I follow every evening
for I am deeply in love with the luxurious richness
of my dimly lit room
image source : google