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By Galadrial Date: 2001 Sep 02 Comment on this Work [[2001.09.02.01.16.31314]] |
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When the sun fell behind the blue shadowed hills the heat of day left and without a word, you hunted out kindling, and some dry logs for a fire. Dinner done, I watch the sky deepen to an impossible violet spangled with starlight, glazed by the Milky Way and know that I am waiting. But I need more than the view through glass, and when you have a gentle blaze started I inhale the sweet smell of pine and pear wood and we go to the veranda to scan the sky, and it is enough to be a whisper apart, my head against your shoulder. Ah.......there. A cool breeze fills the hollow, and unasked your arms enfold me, lips warm against my ear. "You never tire of it, do you?" Oh, so much more to that question, than will I always love the red September moon, bracketed by cedar and oak, or this house we made together, or those moments tucked in your arms curled into a thick tick under flannel sheets. You are asking if I will always love the Ridge, always love you, and I pour all the words into one kiss as the moon quietly climbs and offers sweet radiance and blissful benediction to two lovers who made hearts into home, home into life, and life into this house set in the hollow as the moon casts over the Ridge. |