summer afternoon (can’t take my eyes off of you)

. . . . . here in this grassy field, tall and green,  the sun softly shines;  the warm summer’s breeze stirs through the uncut grass.  walking  through the field,  up to the solitary oak that produces the perfect shade for our summer’s afternoon retreat.  we lay out the picnic blanket,  red and white checkered,  and there we rest for a while.   and from the moment we sat down,  cooled by the shade,  with hints of sun peeking through the leaves above,   i couldn’t take my eyes off of  you.   the gentle breeze  combs through your hair, and you pull  the strands of hair away from your face and guide then to back behind your ear.   sun-kissed skin,   and the favourite  little sundress.  i am blessed, just to be in your company.  the silence we make,  echos the chirping of the birds,  a single motored plane fly above.   the moment our eyes met,  wrote the novel of  the moment.   and out from within, the  contagious smile makes an appearance.   out from the distance a passing car speeds by and breaks the trance you had in me, and i grab the basket.   a lunch that snacks of gouda cheese, a chardonnay, and a merlot, and  crackers with caviar.   and after we snacked and sipped through a couple of glasses,  i lean my back up against the rough bark of the oak.   again, i  reach into the picnic basket and pull out my Hemingway book,  and open the hard cloth bound book, and started where i left off a few weeks prior.   there, you lay your head on my lap and close your eyes and you smile as you sigh and slowly doze off.   one or two chapters pass,  and off in the short distance,  a rumble of thunder rolls. the blue sky slowly fades into a dark storm grey,  the thunder rolls louder;  the breeze turns to a wind,   and the sky flashes light in the clearing down the road.  you wake from your slumber and we start feverishly packing things back in our little summers afternoon picnic basket. one drop, two drop fell.  we fold the blanket quickly, and head towards the truck.   and as quickly as the first step back started, a hard wall of  rain drenches,  as now we are running, laughing  one hundred yards all the way to the truck.  forgetting that i locked the doors,  i drop everything and stumble for the key,  rain pouring and soaking.    you comically scream and tell me to hurry.   once unlocked, we throw everything in back and slam the doors shut.  the rain  in constant pour.  still laughing we sit and wait.   once again,  i cant take my eyes off of you.   beads of rain drip from the tips of your hair, onto your soft sun-kissed skin.  i reach over to wipe the dripping rain off of your face and  i lean in to kiss the love that is you.   breathe deep,   the windows fog,  as quickly as it started.   as quickly as the time faded,  the sound of the  rain slowly comes to an end and as i look up,  and wipe the window clear, i see the sun peeking out from behind the lagging storm cloud.   as we fix ourselves,  i reach for the keys, and start-up the truck.   as i back out onto the road and head back home, we crack open the windows, and  smile.  one summers afternoon picnic to remember, falling more in love with you, with each passing day, taking my breath away,  making the memories that last a lifetime,   making me want to be a better man,  i can’t take my eyes off of you.  . . . . .

c. 2013 BGW

About bradford graham west

enjoy poetry about life, emotion and everything in between. it's real and true. - please read and enjoy! - bgw
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