Essays to a Swan

Sara

Shasa, 13 April 2016 (thought of 20 Nov 2015)

With a smile that could brighten my any mood,
Hands soft as cream, hair like jet,
A voice of pure delight,
That often erupted into gay laughter.

When we embraced, my knees would buckle,
My heart race in a feeling of shimmering ecstasy,
My mind would look back to the years we’d been together,
And see how God had answered my prayers.

We’d hold hands and walk in the park,
Her head on my shoulders,
Waiting for the moon to make her appearance,
Mindful of the birds twittering and the ducks quacking.

Evenings we’d sit in a quiet corner of my room,
Holding hands and drinking in each other’s gaiety,
Talking about just anything,
Comfortable in the warmth we made.

Nights we’d meld into one,
Her head often on my chest,
Marking time, or stretching it into eternity,
An act of love, serene, calm, intimate.