I try to find words to describe you. I want to speak of tall trees, distant stars and tingling in my toes. I want to sing the songs of our adventures of waves crashing against shoreline, and setting sun. I want to rejoice in your deep convictions, your faith that so many admire - in the beautiful art you create, the work of your hands. I smile falling asleep and upon waking - remembering you, your smile, handsome eyes - Soft words. Knowing that you dream my dreams too. Do you know that you bring out the best in me? that you love me, unreservedly - in a way I have never felt before. I want to shout from a rooftop, or carve in wet cement - your name, what you mean to me and to all who know you, I know that the boxes and the turtles and the rooftops and the trees and the open road and the distant stars will all come in time, That this is will do for now. An ode to you, Alex, For I have only just begun to find the words...
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A story
(short but sweet) I was on my rusty bicycle called the "Ladybird 3" it was a Saturday afternoon, around 4 o'clock and something faint something sweet whistled in the breeze. Looking round I saw you, trying your best to engulf a rickety fence. You were beautiful, purple and viney - I wanted to set up a little studio under your blossoming arms. However, time didn't permit it - so I did my best to breathe you in, feel your petals on my fingertips. Closed my eyes and imagined the fence I'll have one day - that you might come to visit every Spring in showers of yellow-centred lilac, that my babes and I will construct a "studio" under and sing and sing and sing |
ABOUT the authorEmily Clare Sims is a farmer and mama to three young boys. Each day she looks for ways to notice beauty, contemplate her faith and savour the seasons... Categories
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