The Mrs. and I

The Mrs. and I, our kiss By Darmok 2/4/02 I remember...back then, The Mrs. and I, would walk the Edge of the forest early in the morn. We’d watch the lingering mist bathe The forest in fairy dreams and bliss. Hand in hand we traced old paths, Where young love found more, There, along the golden paths, Our dreams revealed before. We wandered in timeless sentiment, of what we had, then, and forever. ~*~ Listening to the wakening day, sunshine warming our old souls, We’d sing and live forever, in our songs, and the chorus of new day. ~*~ The smells...of morning, better than Coffee brewing in Winter, damp carpets of peat, and moss. Pine needles wet with dew filling the air, and aromatic musks of compost and nitrates, kicking about our shoes. ~*~ As we neared the spot we made our promises, a tiny bridge that spanned a babbling brook. Into each other’s eyes we’d sink, remembering that day as if yesterday. She said yes, and I said I would, I would love her Forever, and more. We sealed our promise with a kiss, and crossed the bridge before. Repeating each time Our promise, our kiss. ~*~ Caught in cool currents below, we'd add our salty tears, our joy. What falls away into that day, a day turned into years. No drops of sorrow would ever flow, or cross that woodenbridge. Long into tomorrow's seams, our lives so full of …dreams. ~~*~~**~~ ~~*~~**~~ ~*~*~~*~~~*~~*~*~~*~~**~~*~*~ ~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~*~ Now I walk the old trodden path, alone. Feel the sun lay lazily ore these bones. I hear them snap and crack like the forest floor aging, .......... until the bridge I cross once more. Thereto, again I add my tears, remember those years of bliss. The promise made of love Forever, the Mrs. and I, our kiss. ~*~ Written February 4th, 2002 © on Feb 05 2002 05:55 AM PST, Darmok    0 • 8