The stained glass tries to compete but fails to overtake the scene.  The vase too is spectacular as is the old rough hewn window ledge. The vista outside the window takes nearly  5 minutes before it is noticed though the mountains are lovely. 

But those flowers.  That blue atop green stems.  The color of the Aegean.  The color of an infant’s newborn eyes. The color of my love for you.

Shakespeare would have composed a sonnet.  Byron an ode.  I am too close to my dreams.

 I have but these few words that have escaped the remnants of sleep.