Story snippets, random thoughts and pictures, and questions about life. Sometimes, it's just good to escape for awhile.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
"The Last Touch" by Carol Lynn Pearson
The
Last Touch
Their first touch at seventeen
was in the park
And the moon was full
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was long and her eyes were blue
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Another touch at twenty-two on their wedding night
And the stars were bright
She was beautiful to him
And her hair smelled sweet and her lips were full
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
And then again at twenty-five when the baby came
And the sun was high
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was damp and her fingers shook
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Later on at fifty-four sitting on the porch
All the children gone
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was gray and her forehead lined
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Their last touch at eighty-five was by her bed
And the moon was full
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was thin and her eyes were closed
And her skin was cold
And she turned to him
And he knew that he knew what love was
After sixty eight years of laughter and tears
He knew that he knew what love was.
And the moon was full
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was long and her eyes were blue
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Another touch at twenty-two on their wedding night
And the stars were bright
She was beautiful to him
And her hair smelled sweet and her lips were full
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
And then again at twenty-five when the baby came
And the sun was high
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was damp and her fingers shook
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Later on at fifty-four sitting on the porch
All the children gone
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was gray and her forehead lined
And her skin was warm
And she turned to him
And he thought he knew what love was
Their last touch at eighty-five was by her bed
And the moon was full
She was beautiful to him
And her hair was thin and her eyes were closed
And her skin was cold
And she turned to him
And he knew that he knew what love was
After sixty eight years of laughter and tears
He knew that he knew what love was.
Carol Lynn Pearson
Saturday, January 28, 2012
What I'm craving
I've been on a modified bodybuilding program for a week, and what I'm craving surprises me. I don't miss the sweet stuff. Instead, I miss eating cheese and artisan white bread. Sharp cheddar, brie, Swiss....sourdough, baguettes, rye....sigh....
Friday, January 27, 2012
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