In a grove

Is where she slept

And all around her

Where she wept

The flora browned

As death took hold

The price she paid

For the soul she sold

And in the grove

He found her still

Beset with grief

He’d lost his will

With her so went

His destiny

So gave his life

To eternity


Adorned in his button down
The curve of her back
As she eagerly leans over her lap
Where his freshest open wound lay
A flower to her nourishment drawn

A petal hovering above
Anticipating the page’s turn
Hair held up by a yellow no. 2
Save a languorously dangling curl
Persistently insistent on reading along

Backlit by the fleeing sun
Who perhaps fears his written word
She betrays her position
With a finger’s pause on the paper
As her lips subtly recall bearing witness

His pacing has stopped
It never gets him anywhere
Wounds notably heal as he watches her read
As he reads her every angle and nod
Ashamed that her eyes might see him witless

Eyes so intense and intelligent
Holding the page like it was his hand
A sparkle of dusk, dew manifests on the blooms
She understands the darkness before her
There’s hope hiding and love in the lines, a coming dawn


“Good morning, honey…”

He was awakened by her quick good morning kiss
Just before receiving a second, from the hastily opened curtains
Both of them beamed, though he couldn’t divine which was brighter
But it seems they each were happy he was there, which always puzzled him

She stood briefly in front of the window, hands on her hips, a smirk on her lips, and an ever so slight hint of the devil in her brilliant eyes
It was definitely she, who was the brighter; and he vaguely wondered if the sun was jealous

Today marked two score and ten years for them, as a them; the old-time lingo always tickled her
This year, like every year past, she was determined to make it special
Even though, he thought, she made every day special

A family gathering
Children, grandchildren, and even a couple great-grand-rascals
All visiting for the feast that she meticulously planned
Food, games, and if he can convince her, maybe some singing with the family and the old baby grand

She’d need no convincing, of course, and she needn’t have gone through the elaborate preparations
He always told her she didn’t need to work so hard on these things; but he had to come to terms, many years before, that it was something she relished
And it was folly to interfere; though he did so occassionally, just for her cheek

She’d always smile and say, “Everyday is a new day for you to fall in love with me more.”
Silly girl, he thought, I fall in love with you more with each quick good morning kiss

“How do you feel, honey?”

Lost in her, he was. You hear it all the time, but she really was the love of his life. Not a day goes by, that he doesn’t worship the ground she floats over. His angel.


He couldn’t imagine ever leaving her side, nor she his. He would hold onto her forever, it was his favorite thing to do. After all, there were quite a few more days ahead, to fall in love with her more

“I think he’s gone, at the moment,” the nurse said politely, “Maybe you should come back in the afternoon.”
She paused briefly to glance out the window, trying to see what he sees. “When he loses himself, he’s usually out of it for a few hours.”

The woman nods, wipes away a tear, and gives him a quick good morning kiss, as they were leaving the room
The nurse briefly paused in front of the window, to check the area, and him, one more time

And he was awakened…
There she was, standing in front of the window, hands on her hips, a smirk on her lips, and an ever so slight hint of the devil in her brilliant eyes

Today was a special day, and oh how he loved being with her. There was nowhere else he’d rather be

*the door locks from the hallway*