Fresh Washed Sheets

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honeysuckle natters all around
the open bedroom window;
belying yipping coyote pups
calling for their mother.
and see? the moonlight dances,
twinkling through the vines
that smell of cream-gold threefold blooms
who fade, but never die.

and you with eyes deep as the sea,
you who smells of fresh washed sheets,
ensure the vines grow every spring;
love blooms inside our window.

© Toni Christman, 2013

Review

Not a word wasted here as your skillfully applied descriptive details reveal layer on layer of the very face of selfless love, shining like a beacon through that open window.    It’s hard to choose a favorite line, but I especially like the parallel smells of honeysuckle and fresh washed sheets.  Ah, the simple … simply magnificent … things that stir our hearts.

Mary Boren

Impresario
In a Sooty Boot-Black Ginnel