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Planting Roses

 On an overcast day, a short graying couple kneels in their flowerbed planting roses. With a lilt in her voice, she gently touches his arm, and asks "Hey handsome, could you get me the red and white osira?" before pointing to a bunch of bundled up rosebushes. He removes a glove then brushes a strand of her silver hair back, kisses her on the cheek, and replies "Of course, gorgeous. That's the white one with the red tips?" "That's right." she says, returning to digging the hole for the new rosebush. Using his cane to rise to his feet, he walks over and grabs the rosebush. "You know. I once read a poem about this rose?" he volunteers. "And you recite it every time we plant these." she says, smiling. "The White Rose. By John Boyle O'Reilly. It’s nearly as short and as beautiful as you." he offers before reciting the poem while pretending to inspect the rosebush. "The red rose whispers of passion, And the whit...

Fragments of a Memory of a Dream

 Good morning, ____________, my muse, I awoke far too early today, groggy with my back and neck aching slightly and sporting a mild headache. But I also had fragments of a memory of a beautiful dream from some weeks ago. The dream was shaped by both a memory and knowing you. It was brief; yet it’s permanently part of me. What follows is a bit lengthy, so I'll understand if it takes a bit to read it. The basics are in the title. The pinnacle of the dream was a moment of such a beautiful warmth, so deep and profound, so that weeks later, it’s still beyond my ability to describe. It will probably remain so. Just know that you are forever part of that moment, that memory of the dream. ——————— You were hosting a party at your house. Nervous about getting lost on my first time there, I left far too early and arrived first. You opened the door and invited me in, with a brilliant smile. In fact, your smile caught me pleasantly off guard. It was as if there was a secret you wanted to eventu...

An Unstolen Heart

Dear __________, I have something a little shameful to admit. Every time I told you that you stole my heart, I lied. You've never stolen it. But, please don't be mad. You didn't have to. I've given it freely, every time, clad in satin, silk, hope, and words. I remember the first time. I gave it raw and trembling, yet eager for what may come. Then, each time after, I've given it ever more reassured, and ever more eager. And every time you've given it a home in your bosom, awash in kindness, warmth and care. And you've caressed it with a warm touch so gentle and sweet, I swear I would be able to feel it a million miles away. And each time you've returned my heart calm, soothed, and aglow with a warmth it has seldom known. Thank you for showing me this experience of beauty, kindness, and grace. Yours, forever and always, –  ____________