the reality of a dream

. . . . where can i find the one thing  i’ve been missing?  looking  beyond  the  grasp  of  these  hands;   digging,  searching.  day after day, waking up to quick sand dreams,  driving into the same postcard picture,  turning here,  instead of there.  because most of the time, i feel like i’m coming apart at every nail;  and then,  she enters  my mind,  my sight;  finding my light.  and then,  everything i was mad at, everything i was stressed out about;  it all seems to just disappear,   all in a matter of moments.  the hours seem like simple minutes,  and my eyes open,  and its all there,  nothing but the empty room,  reality,  and im all alone again,  and i want to go back to sleep. . . . 

 

 

c. 2013  BGW

a framed paradise

. . . . she is my paradise.   comfortably sitting still in each others presence under the weeping of the willows,  there we are.  she talks to me in conversation,  i get lost in her beauty.   the late june afternoon  found itself to be a little warm.    the clouds lazily pass by,   peek a boo,  and there’s the sunshine.   the water slowly rushes by in the creek,  flowing at our side.    the mockingbirds toss around a song that plays as a soundtrack for the days afternoon.   i gaze deeply into her eyes,   the radiant beauty that pours out  from within her,  she amazes me.  the green, lush grass,  cool and soft surrounds us as we sit,  and the ant crawls in between the blades.   i reach for her hand,   hold it gently,  and her smile sneaks in,  making me smile in return.   the open fields of wildflowers welcomes  the passing  butterfly,  and a bee flys off  the orange daylily.  gently,  the leaves on  the tree branches dance in the passing by breeze.   the late afternoon sun glows a soft orange off her skin,  and on her face.   the shade of  a  willow branch dances back and forth,   blocking  the sun from her eyes.    the kiss appears,   as the sun slowly disappears.   quickly i gather some extra kindling and start the evenings campfire.   and now the suns glow is replaced by the moon glow,  fire glow.   the starry night blankets the canvas,  and our conversations are interrupted by our  hands and our kisses.   the tall grass under that willow,  cool and soft,  surrounds where we are.   and the stars look  upon us,   never saying a word.   she is a masterpiece,   and if i told her that,   she’d blush and wouldn’t believe me.   afterglow by the fire,  i read her some of my poetry.  after a while,  we took our lantern and walked the worn out path  that ran beside the stream.  our conversation turned to comfortable silence.  i  gently turn you around and take you in my arms,  holding you close in my arms,  there we are.   we stand in the middle of this field,  the moon shinning  down,  and the locus’ sing .   there,  in each others arms,  her face pressed on my shoulder,  she tells me that she needs me.   and between the darkness of the night and the glow of the lantern,  i look into her eyes as  if that could possibly say it all,  and i deeply kiss her.   we turn and head back to the tent and campfire.  on the way back,   the feelings came out,  and the wall she built to protect,  somehow was crumbling.   zipping up the tent behind me,  we head to bed,  but not a moment before the expressions of our feelings were shared.   the passion that  is deep and true is brighter than all the stars put together;  and she’s a masterpiece.   painted into the starry  night sky or in the mid days sun,  everything about her completes the painting  and compliments everything around her.   pale colours turn bright and vibrant.  work of art wrapped in a frame of  perfection.  but,  if i told her that she’s a masterpiece,  she’d just blush,  and the brush will just,  continue to paint. . . . .

c. 2013  BGW

the surprise in mind

. . . .i thought about her,  for about the millionth time today.  but the drive home from work just does that to me.   it gave me time to wind down from work,  and,  of course,  think of her.  she had been called out of town on business,   and had been away for a week and half.   i always counted the days when she was gone,  and counted the days when she’d be back.   it just became a habit.   but the thought of her could always cool me down,  after a hard day at  work.  frustration wiped away by the thought of her smile,  her kiss that would await for me at the door,  or by the loving reenforcement a man needs after being chewed out by a boss.   but i knew that i wasnt going to get greeted by any of  that today,  and the thought of her was just o.k.,  and seven days from now,  i knew it would be even better.   and somehow,  a smile crept onto my face.   like a horse pill that’s hard to swallow,   i just take these  lonely days one by one.   i came to the long gravel drive that leads to our farm town home.  in the summer,  surrounded by tall corn stalks,  and in the winter,  surrounded by the howling winds.   but with it being only june,  the  corn had only grown to about ankle height,  and that’s  largely due to the fact that spring brought a lot of rain, had flooded the fields.  slowing my pace,  and turning onto the drive,  i drive up towards our castle,  and park in the turn about,  right by the door.   i got out and grabbed my briefcase,  and walked back down to the drive to the mailbox,  to retrieve what the postman had brought.   bills,  coupons and more junk to throw away.   i don’t mind the walk.  not today.  the sun felt warm and welcoming.   a slight breeze comes and goes,  and the thought of her hair gently blowing in her face when she pulls it back behind her ears,   fills in the gaps of hurried silence.   i come to the mailbox and open its little door and i grab what is inside.   walking back up towards  the castle in the field,  i hold the mail in the one hand, and carry my briefcase in the other.   i walk up the two concrete steps that lead me the back door,  laundry room door,  and i turn the key and the door hinges squeak as i open it.   taking off my shoes  and setting my briefcase  down,  out of habit,  i turn to look for her.  and silence welcomes me instead.   i walk to the kitchen and throw the mail on the nooks table and i open the refrigerator.   the coolness hits me as i reach in and grab a cooled drink.  i turn back to the table and pull back a chair and relax for a minute.  taking a sip,  i grab the mail and look through it.  ads,  coupons and bills.  but in the back of the stack,  was something different.   a postcard.  a cityscape was its cover and i flipped it over.   it was from her.  and the hugest smile that anyone could have seen came across my face.  reading what she wrote was short and to the point. ” MISSING  YOU!!  WISHING YOU WERE  HERE!”   signed by a couple x’s and o’s and a heart.   there i sat,  just looking at that postcard’s picture.  seven days till her arrival back home.  not soon enough.   getting up my chair,  i try to find some dinner.  finding something along the way,  i sit in my recliner and turn on the t.v.  and watch something mindless , but i quickly turn it off.   again,  the silence cuts through the surrounding loneliness,  and i try to distract the mind that wonders and  i quickly turn to head for bed.    a hot shower,  a clean shave,   and a good book to fall asleep to.   tossing and turning,  never getting a great nights sleep while the emptiness wraps its cold arms around  me;   where is she tonight?   is she missing me as much as i miss her?    i need to hear her voice,   hold her in my arms and  whisper in her ear,  i need her.   //   quickly i rush to my feet,  pulling on some jeans and my teams jersey,   throwing on some sox and shoes,  i run to the truck.  down the highway i speed down.  the early morning hours pass,  and the corn fields grow to small town commercials created by highway exits.  they come and go  as i try to figure out what i was doing.    the tires roll on like the wheels in my head,   trying to map out a plan.   she was on business,  and this was just my day off.    so it wasn’t like i could really sweep her off her feet and take her away on a vacation.   the mile markers got closer to the queen city,   and fortunately i knew the roads as if  it was my own home town.    but it was only ten in the morning  and i had some time to kill and plan everything out.   //   downtown.   somewhere,  there she is.   tall buildings  cast their shadows down below, on the  people  as they walk by,  coming  and going,  hurrying to their power point presentations.  car horns and ambulance sirens fill the gap between my footsteps.   lunchtime deli,  passing the time,  riverside museum.   could you find me?    i can feel her love come closer.    quickly five p.m. comes around,  and i mix in with the co-workers rush.   one block,   two blocks and the door man opens the door.   hotel lobby,   fine carpets and lined with gold trim.   a far cry from the country pigs and dirt roads.   hotel bar,   hotel pool and the crystal chandelier.    gift shoppe and six elevators,  all  are there,  to lead me to you again.   second floor,  fifth floor,   all the way up to the seventeenth floor,   there i take a deep breath,   and question that maybe she’s too busy,   or even busy in another meeting.   over thinking it,   i quietly laugh at myself.    seventeen-o-nine,  seventeen ten,   seventeen eleven.   is she there?    i face the door,  and like a first date,  my heart beats what seems like out of my chest.  i knock softly and wait.  a faint sound of footsteps approach the door,   and the unlocking of the door preceded by the turning of the handle;   and the door cracks open.   //    i hide my face with the bunch of red roses i bought from the hotel florist,   and i hold my breath.   out from between a thorned branch and a bloom of red petal,   i see her head peer around the opening of  the door,  followed by shriek of surprise;   the door quickly swings open.  she rushes at me like a defensive end to the quarterback,  and im lucky to save the flowers from a  sad ending of being smashed.   her arms rush around me in the hotel hallway,  and we are here.      and as she rushed me for negative yardage,   im in her hotel room.   she stood there in amazement and i hand her  her flowers.    here we are.   standing in this hotel room.   i slowly walk up to her,   reach for her hand and i kiss her ever so gently on the lips.   the kiss was greeted silently with her hand caressing my chest.   slowly she backs away,   and tells me that she’ll be right back.   she retreats to the bathroom,   and i turn and quickly take off my number fourteen jersey and   head to look out the window.   a sunny evening in the city,   and the ants below rush home.    the bathroom door opens, and she utters “honey’.    i turn only to find her in one of my button down business shirts she “stole” and that’s it.   and she’s in some sort of Marilyn Monroe pose against the wall.    quickly i drop the drape from my hand,  and again,   i slowly walk up towards her.   i reach for her hand,   and passionately kiss her,   lovingly.  her hands caressing my chest and back,  slowly unbuckling.   my hands,   gently holding her neck,   to her shoulders,  and button by button,   the shirt falls to the ground,  around her ankles.    deep kissing leads us to the bed,   and i swipe everything off the bed.  laptop,  papers and everything that really doesn’t matter.    there,   wrestling within the sheets,   hands,  sweat, and passionate love stands strong throughout.   what are we going to do?    here we are,   within the arms of our love,   surprise!   we sit there in the afterglow,  and you quickly finish the e-mail and shut the business side of your personality down,   and there we are,   with the evening that awaits us.    is it Nicholson’s or room service that awaits?   we don’t dare leave this room.   no t.v.   no outside interruptions.   here we are,   if only for the one night.    wishing you were here,   please don’t leave.   this magic moment we are in,  what have we found?  the knowing that in the mornings dawn,    i must go,   and another six days wont be so bad.   please don’t go away again,    because i don’t think i can  take it,    i need you tonight,   and tonight is just tough.    because this dream i awoke from,    found me wrapped in loneliness’  arms,  back at home.    t.v. glowing with mindless infomercials.  !! where are you tonight?!     i woke up crying,    needing her now,   because the loneliness is killing my heart.    is she  here?    comfortably,   i lay between the blankets  and couch,  but  numb.    somehow needing her tonight,   i need her within my arms,   holding her so close,   with the smell of  her hair brushing my nose,   the feeling of   her within  my arms,  holding on tight,   falling asleep with her.    i never wanted to let go.  alarm sounds,  it’s  five a.m.,   and i quickly get dressed and i drive off finding the city,  down this highway i go.   here i am,   and i need her tonight.. . . . . . . .

c.2013  BGW

deep within the heart (briefly apart)

. . . . she draws back the thick hotel curtain,  and looks out,  down at the city below her feet.   her reflection mixes in with the outside scenery.   and from the twelfth floor hotel room,  she can see the setting sun clearly.  the cityscape  could have easily been mistaken as  the same as the one before,  tall buildings,  stone,  brick  and  marbled.   little headlights pass by,   as the skycraped  lights grow bright.   quietly the television broadcasts the winning scores,  she turns and watches her favourite teams highlights.   slowly,  finding him again in thought.   turning off the rooms main light,  leaving the bedside table lamp glowing  softly off the wall,  illuminating the painting above the beds headboard.   flipping  the bathroom light switch,  the lights flicker on,   illuminates bright,  bathroom white.   the black and white checkered tile floor was cool on her toes,  as she got herself undressed.  as the bathroom quickly filled up with the warm steam,   the mirror fogged.   she wipes her hand across the mirror and the condensation slowly rolls downward.   and there,  in the clean mirrored image,  alone,  there she stood.  looking into her own eyes,  she could see the memory slowly coming back,  as there he was.   she could feel his hands softly rubbing her shoulders and arms.   behind her,  he softly kisses her neck.   but looking  back into the steamed mirror,   she stands there alone.   //   some two-thousand miles away,  give or take,  minus a thousand or two or plus a few hundred,   there he is.    walking into a house,   without her to come home to after a hard days work,    is a temporary scene.   but one that he could never get used to.    he runs  the razor trough the thick of a foam beard,  across his  face,  and  it shaves him clean.   wiping the mirror off  after every pass on his  face,   the  shower awaits.   looking in the mirror,   there he stands.    tired eyes,   and the stress in his face shines like a bright neon light.    this is not him,  and the man he  knows,   and the man he is seeing,   has  somehow temporarily checked out.    and there,   slowly,   she crawls into his mind,  and he  can feel her hands wiping away his stress,   as if she was there.   his eyes,   looking  back into the mirror,  he is standing alone with only the thought.   he dries himself off ,  dress  in his  nighttime attire,  and heads  for the kitchen.   the summer evening breeze dances though the kitchen window curtain,  and a soft distant sound of thunder dances across the corn field.    there,  as he eats his dinner for one,  he  flips through the channels.   darkened house ;  a soft  glow of the television.   where are you tonight?  //     she dries herself off,    as  she steps out of the shower.    wrapping a towel around herself  and another around her hair,    she calls  room service and orders herself  dinner.   quickly she dresses  in her nighttime attire.    as she answers the knock,   she signs her name and takes the food and heads to the bed.    she eats a bit between her e-mails and replies.   and her food slowly grows cold.   there,  she shuts the laptop,   and props herself up with all the pillows,   against the beds headboard.    flipping through the channels,  catching a glimpse of a movie,  or some sort of program,    the thought of him comes rushing back.    the thought  of one another usually floods each others minds when they are apart.    //    there,  on the couch,   his  food grows cold quickly,  as his  hunger fades away when she is gone.   the  program they  like to watch together  comes on,   and he  can feel her laying  there with him.   but tonight,  the thought of her keeps him company,   and her favourite decorative pillow props his  head up on the couch,  as he continues to watch the flipping of stations.   //  she falls asleep with the television on,  and dreams that he was with her,  holding her and waking up by her side.   but the sound of  the morning alarm proved it all a dream.   one more day of  meetings and deal making awaits,  and then she can go back home.    //   he falls asleep tonight with the television on,   and dreams that she came home a day early.    but the morning alarm proved it all to be a dream,   and with a lonely heart,  he gets ready for the day.   she comes home tomorrow morning.  //    the days apart  never moved as quickly as they wanted them too.  the short time apart always seemed to be too long.    and  everything  always reminded them of each other;    like a song,   or something on  television,   a sports game  or something that they’d come across at the store.    just one more  night,   and there,  they would be together again.    a restless night,   a wrestling match with the blankets,  and  the tossing and turning resembled a fish out of water.    six  a.m.,  this time,   same time,  same time zone,   and the sun peaks up from the horizon.    the strong smelling  coffee brews and looking at the time every five minutes became a bad habit.   he pours himself a cup as he tries to patiently wait for her arrival.   he takes his last sip of coffee and  pulls the curtain back from the kitchen window as he hears the tires roll onto the gravel.   there,  coming up the gravel drive,  she was home.    quickly setting his cup down and rushing out the laundry room door and down the back porch steps,   he watches her pull up and park.   as the dust rolls by,  they run to meet each other,   in the arms of each other,  they once again find  their happiness,   zero miles apart. . . . . .

c. 2013  BGW

beginning tonight (never letting it end)

part two:

 

. . . . . two a.m.  tossing and turning,   tangled all within the sheets;   i’m wide awake.    i dozed off  for maybe ten minutes,   but that was an hour ago,   and now i’m just here,   watching this wall,   digital numbers glowing in my eyes,   getting later and later.   laying here, thinking about you tonight.   and i wonder if you’re doing the same about me,  too.   you see,  we agreed to meet up for the friday night,  and its now friday morning,  three thirty a.m.   and i havent seen a wink of deep sleep,   and the jumping sheep have all gone home.   tossing and turning , how could i stop thinking of her?    the easy haunting of  her eyes,   pierced my heart when i first introduced myself to her.   blades on the fan on the ceiling,  trying to keep me cool,  and this room feels like im all wrapped up in wool.   five a.m.  in this sleepless morning,   and i slide out of bed and get ready for the working day,   tonight’s  the night.    and here i am, in my early morning routine, and it  feels like slow motion.   coffee’s brewed,  and  eggs are scrambled.   the songs on the radio seem to fit the story that plays out in my head.    the cell phone screen glows bright,   and lights up the darkness  inside the car.  stop light,  red light,  i read the message;   that is her.   telling me that she hopes that my day goes well,   and that she’s  really looking forward to the night.    and like the eraser on the chalkboard,   the slow motion of the sleepless night was wiped away and a surge of excitement  awoke within.  work, work and more work,   with nice interruptions of smiley  faces,  peppered with  a winked  face,  and a smile comes across my face.  ticked and toc’d  the day slowly passes,   and at three,  i clock out.  rushing to the car,  and finding my self driving a little quicker than usual to my home;  i unlock the door,  check the mail and toss it on the living room’s end table.  no time now to pay the cable.   turning on the shower,  i quickly undress and head on over to shave my face smooth.  double checking  the smoothness of my face,  i draw back the curtain,  and i step in the heavily steamed shower.  i dry off and i splash my after shave on,  and the burn tingles and splash another for good measure.   there she waits for me at her house,  for my arrival and i pull in her drive.  stepping out of the car, i reach over and grab the flowers i bought on the way,  and straightened my shirt tail and i take a deep breath.   some how my feet  head on up towards the door, but  i have forgotten how to walk.  and in a blink of an eye,  i ring the doors bell,  and the sound of feet coming down the stairs are blinded by this door.   and the lock makes noise and slowly the door opens.  and there,  stood in the doorway,  was the one who pierced my heart.  she curled her hair and remembered my favourite colour,  by wearing the same colour dress.   frozen,  i stand,  but a smile comes through.   once again our eyes meet and a smile comes across her face.   somehow i utter out a hello,  followed by telling her that she looked amazing.   a complementary thank you follows and i hand her the flowers.  she invites me in for a short time,  while she grabs her purse and as she quickly puts her flowers in a vase.  i walk her to the passenger side door and open it for her.   taken back by that,  she once again smiles and thanks me in her soft angelic tone.   leaving the driveway,  her perfume fills the interior,  and im quickly driven wild.   there at the restaurant,  i tell the hostess my name and that we had reservations.   she shows us to the  candlelit table.   i pull the chair out for you and we sit, and give each other a glance.   looking over the menu,  we order and i reach out for her hand.  squeezing it,  we take a sip of our wine and start our conversation.  as we talk,  the music of the band, softly plays from the other room.   there’s no one on the dance floor yet,  and i grab your hand and head towards the floor.   the slow song requires the slow dance.  my hand shakes,  and your hand shakes and we hold on to each other.  slowly,  the lights dim dimmer and our feet slowly pace,   am i leading or are we both following;   i am all lost in you right now,  and im amazed.   your head is on my chest,  and everything else is a blur.   as quickly as the song started,   it ended,  and you held on to me a little while longer.   the scent of her hair filled my head and the felling of her arms around me,  was perfect.  we head to our table and there was our dinner,  ready for a side of  conversation.   you tell me that you like my cologne and that my shirt matches my eyes,  something only could catch.  my smile gets bigger.  bite after bite,  sip after sip, and story after story,  the table gets cleared off ,  and again,  the conversation continues.  your eyes and the words you speak paint a picture in this head of mine,  unlike any other before,  like some sort of short film, and i  am your audience.   filing away deep inside my brain,  everything you say.  and another song plays and i ask you to dance again.  this time you grab my hand as we head towards the floor.  and like we never left the other dance from earlier,  the scent of your hair came rushing back,  and the feeling of you holding me tight,  never felt so good.  and even though there are more couples on the wooden dance floor,  we are the only.  dance lights slowly move across the room,  and here we are;   the cover of   “it’s your love”  comes to a close,  and we just keep dancing,   embracing this moment,   this  memory.   heading back to the table,  i grab the check,  and pay the tab.  not wanting to quite go home,  we walk down main street again,  and hop into the horse-drawn carriage.   and as the town slowly crawls by,  and the evening air,  refreshes.  here we are.  holding my hand,  the continuous smile never leaveing  our faces,  we are real,  true and forever.   the moon shines brightly tonight,   and the evening is cooler than normal.  perfect.   as you look out your side of the carriage,  i quickly reach  into my inside jacket pocket.  and when you turn to ask me what something was,  you stop mid sentence,  and you freeze.  your eyes enlarge and your hands quickly cover your mouth.   here, and i tell her that  she is the love of my life,   and i wouldn’t want to go through it with anyone else.  i asked her to marry me.   and with tears of joy pouring out,   she answers with a yes,  and she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me love.   the driver of the carriage smiles and tells us congrats and hands us a bottle of champagne and two glasses.   slowly,  we still crawl through the town and around the neighborhoods untill the first glass is empty.   here we are.    as the carriage drops us off at your front door,   ill pick up the car tomorrow,  can’t think about that now.    the deep kiss good nite was perfect,  and there we are,  and i need you.   you put your hand in my hand and guide me through the door.  we aren’t leaving each other tonight and  we can’t let this evening end.   and i don’t want it to.   and slowly,  the door shuts behind me,  and here we are. . . . . .

part two

c. 2013  BGW

part one = first day of june

part four = the walk home (evening edition)

harvest

. . . . . planting bountiful seeds of tomorrow

we watch the flowers bloom

just before i rest,  see the petals softly fall to the ground

the cold wind whips through the air

and the harvest moon shines brightly;

harvesting my soul,  all done in a day’s work,

the harvest of my life,  what will you reap ;  seek,

and you will find welcoming arms

forever  in the fields of tomorrow,  always a possibility. . . . . .

c. 2004, 2013  BGW

on the first of june

. . . . . . the first of  june.  a late afternoon rain,  and the grey clouds fills the  sky.  stepping out of  the doorway,  i turn the key,  and lock my  castle.   the sound of the rain taps and drips off the sides as i open the umbrella and start my hurried walk.   to the rain soaked sidewalks,    the smell of the rain fills the air.  the smile on my face as i go walking by,  tells the stranger who passes by,   the story in my head.   headlights and street lamps glowing brighter,  the worms crawl across the stone,  and the birds play in a  curb side puddle.  one by one i walk by each home,  closer to where the cobblestone path leads me;   up on the horizon,  i can see the main street crossway.  as the last house became the first store front.   the rain subsided and through a crack in the grey sky above,   the sunset quickly peeks as to say  good night.   night time,  is our time.   and the main street businesses are busy.   the locus’ sing and the clippety clop of the horse drawn carriage mixes in with the laughter of the crowd of twenty somethings,  waiting to be seated at the corner bistro.   making my way through the crowd,  i pardon myself and smile.  next door,  the ice cream parlour is busy with the families with  their children’s faces glued to glass,  picking out their favourite flavours.   across the street,  the skateboarders have made the towns parking lot their hangout spot for the night.  and there,  next to the mom and pop grocers,  sits the candlelit atmospheric  coffee shoppe.    i leave my umbrella in the entryway,   by the door in the corner.   i stop at the doorway and look in.  scanning  among  the tables and booths of a  full house.  and there,  out among the small sea of  the crowd,  i see my girl,  my  lady guinevere.   there,  in the glowing candle light,  she waves me over.   even in the dim light,  i can see the lure of her eyes.   even through the heavy scent of coffee,  i can smell her sweet perfume.  and even through the noise of the words of other people’s conversation,   i can still hear her say “hello, baby”;  as if we were the only ones in the room.   hug me hello,  kiss me love.   the softness of her hand in mine,   the waitress takes our order .  she loves to just sit there and listen me tell her about my day.  she smiles and never breaks eye contact.   the conversation can always go on, and on.  and we would never grow tired of being inside of each others presence.    she knows how to make me feel so good.   just by the little things she says;   and the things i already know, that reassures me,  in the feelings i have for her.   and i think i know just how to make her feel like a woman.   with my words,  she hangs onto every sentence,   and with every story told.    to me,  she is amazing.    like  some kind of  intricate piece of art.   every look at her,  different from the last,   finding that these feelings are deep,   and real.    with her smile,   she melts my heart.   with her eyes,   i will fall,  and with her kindness,   i will give her my mind, heart and soul.   and as soon as the couple of cups of coffee are sipped,  and the shared bottle of wine is drank,   we head out on this summers night.   the first of june,   close to midnite.   the air is cooler,   and main street is a little more quiet,  than when i arrived.   i take your hand in mine,  and we start the slow walk home,   continuing  the conversation, right where we left off.   we come to the corner;  waiting for the cross walk light to change.   there,  as we wait,   on the other side of the street the horse and carriage comes to a stop and another couple gets out.  and we hurry our pace,  and hop in.   slowly,  the carriage starts its slow pace,  and we look at the towns closed store fronts,  and quant little homes that sit in a row;   all dark and sleeping for the night.  the neighborhoods are darker because the street lamps stop on college avenue,  on the edge of the business district.   in a short detour though this neighborhood,  you looked up at the stars and we catch a shooting star,  falling fast among its home.   reach on out and grab your wish.    clippety clop,  slowly we go,   holding you in my arms.   the last quarter moon shines, and lights up the surreal,  quiet streets of our town.   i help you down from out of the carriage,  as our ride comes to an end,  and we continue our slow walk back to your place.   iron fences all  painted black,   outlining the  yards.   all the porch lights are on, one by one, all nestled in a neat little row.     all the  flags are sitting still,   no breeze,  and the cool air,  with you here,  and your hand in mine,  a  perfect night.   twenty paces ahead and the white door of yours comes into view.  our pace becomes even slower,  knowing that this walk is about to end.   never wanting this night to end,  i hold your hand tighter.   white door with a  summer flower wreath,  and a porch light glows bright.   here we are.   i thank you for a very enjoyable night and your smile flashes back on your face.  the eye contact that was made,  drew me in,  and our lips met to say good nite.   staying there a little longer,  mid kiss,  taking it all in.  the mental photograph,  that is my memory.  we  say good nite,  as you open your door and look back,   your  smile still painted on your angelic face.  and as i turn back and head to my own house,  the smile that is on my face,  couldn’t even had been wiped off.   the smile i had,  playing  the night over  in my head,   i was in heaven.   and as quick as i left her place,  i was at mine.  a perfect night had come to a close.  only now waiting for tomorrow,  when we’re meeting for lunch.  a good nite and  some sweet dreams sit and wait,  and there,  i will sooner find you again. . . . . . . . .

 

 

c. 2013 BGW