good morning (good night)

. . . . .the needle on the vinyl created a crackling sound,  giving the music more character.   if he timed it just right,  the song that was always “their song”  would be playing,  just as she would come through the door.   making sure everything was right,  he doubled checked to see if everything was in place.  hearing her pull up the drive,  he wipes his sweaty palms on the side of his shirt and  takes one last deep breath.   after dropping the kids off to a friends sleepover,  she walks through the door of the laundry room,  and puts  her purse on the designated hook on the wall.   opening the door to the family room,  she notices the darkness,  but her eyes quickly adjust and sees the countless candles,  golden glow,  lighting the darkness.  she  smells the dinner that awaits and  hears the music softly playing.   and there,  he waits for her surprised face to glance on over to him.  she smiles,  and slowly walks up to him,  and he hands her the flowers that he picked just for her,  from the wildflower garden that they grew in their backyard.   she smells the bouquet and looks up at him still smiling.   he welcomes her home and takes her into his arms.  while the music  played softly in the background,  the welcome home hug became a welcomed embrace.  there in the glow of the candles,  the silence of a childless evening and the sound of  the  special record playing in the background,  just as he timed it,  their song came on.   a welcomed embrace formed into their own slow dance,  as the candle glow looked on.   she gently tosses the flowers on the couch and quickly returns her arms around him,  but this time just a little tighter.   the soft scent of his cologne intoxicated  her senses  as she relaxes her head  on his chest.   he,  relaxes his head atop her head and he softly inhales the sweet scent of her perfume.   he moves his arms away from the embrace and softly takes her back into them again but only to kiss her,  deeply and lovingly.   the passion returns,  often going by without.   children and practices and work schedules usually trumped everything,   until exhaustion  settled in and the next day rolled around and it was the same song and dance,  all over again.   but tonight,   they had it all to themselves,   if only for the one night.     she whispers in his ear  “i love you”.   he loved her voice.  he loved how she told him the little things like,  how she was thinking about him,  or how much  she wished that he was there with her,  and how much she thought of him.  it made him feel important and needed.   it soothed his emotions,  and could make a bad day,  good.   he,   whispers in her ear,   “i’m  the luckiest man in the world,  because i get to wake up everyday with you by my side and hear your voice say good morning,  and then to end my day,  still with you by my side and to hear you tell me good night.   how can i be an unlucky man,  to start and end my day with you?  what kind of fool i would be to take that for granted.”  her smile greeted him again.  by the look in her eyes,  and the way that he read her eyes,  their hands were one step ahead.   the needle quickly lifted off of the vinyl and clicked off,  he turns and quickly places it back on their song.   the scent of the candles,  the sounds of the song,  all became non existent as they fell onto the couch,  wrapped in each others caressing hands.   two puzzle pieces coming together,  far too perfect;   the way they made each other feel,   free all over again.   the names flew  in the air,  and the warm glow shining in the dark found themselves,  new,  all over again.   laying in his arms,  she trys  to gather her thoughts,  and he gently holds her tighter.   the record was long over and there they were in the silence.   ten p.m. and there aren’t any kids to make go take their baths and there wasnt any arguing coming from the upstairs.  the gentle silence in lovers arms,  hadn’t been forgotten,  but needed to be visited again.   the dinner now sat cold upon the kitchen counter.   she gets up and warms it up.  he grabs the plates and they quickly eat  at the table.  cleaning up and taking showers,  he blows out the candles as she puts her flowers inside a vase.   retiring to the bedroom,  they pull back the sheets.   he reaches for the remote and she interrupts and says,  “are you sure you want to watch t.v.?”  and her robe falls softly  to the ground.  he sets the remote down quickly,  and settles into the bed,  pulling the warm cottony sheets aside.  the bedside lamp shone,   and the alarm clock  tick’d – toc’d.   rounds three and four pass,  there he holds her close.    the much needed sleep caught up to them and they were out for the count.  sleeping in,  the coffee is brewing,   and a new day has come.   he smiles as she tells him good morning.   pouring a cup of coffee and slowly sipping away,  they sluggishly dress for the day and drive to get the kids.   another date night passes,   and as the kids climb in and start their arguing,  family day has begun. . . . . . . . .

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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