Trompe Loeil – Saylor Square Gray Stone
This is the place where I’d sit and play the Moonlight Sonata
This old town was built with a language that has not been spoken for a long time
On the soft turf that clothes the mountain brow, Marks the bright sea-line mingling with the skies…
Lavender Lemons and the smell of freshly washed linen
We sell awesome homegrown stuff on our way to San Francisco ;-)
Always looking forward to those Sunday afternoon teas at Granny’s …
So, the cooking didn’t quite go the way it was planned…
An old silent pond fish hiding under the leaves waiting for the sun…
Even in this barren Wasteland spring finds her way…
A fruity ensemble at my granny’s cozy spring scented loft…
Little town it’s a quiet Village every day like the one before…
This old room filled with vinyl memories
