Quietly, she sat sketching tomorrow's visitation
Blue skies gathered outside the windowpane
Copper colored tulips beside a cobble stone lane
A dress of blue gingham, a scent of elation
They would speak of childhood's halcyon days
With fingerprints of memory deeply embedded
A leafstorm of yesterdays, now neatly threaded
Into paper doll families and backyard clichés
Would he recognize the old clapboard house?
The man with a mind equated to an apotheosis
His museum of words could induce hypnosis
While commonly discussing his' tufted titmouse'
She placed the quill to the waiting creation
Silently, she'd kept him wrapped inside her mind
A living book of intelligence, the presidential kind
He walked unequaled, meriting arrant admiration!