The screeching of parrots overhead and the kookaburras chatter in the trees woke him up. It was already light and her bare back faced him as he rose to start another day. He brushed aside the net curtains and saw that it would be another scorcher.
He looked at her warm brown body heaving gently and thinking better of his plans sat on the bed tracing patterns on her bare back with his fingers marveling at her anatomy as she grunted contentedly still dead to the world.
He had to get the files in order in his office before his appointment with the accountant so he showered and dressed and quietly locked the door and drove into the city trying to forget her figure and reload the profit and loss numbers in his mind.
Lucky is the man
Who loves his wife in the morn
On his way to work
Image found at www.serendipitypatchwork.com.au
What a tender poem - lucky but also something that we perhaps have to create for ourselves too
ReplyDeleteThose who find love are lucky indeed.
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful poem.
What a fantastic poem. I was deeply moved.
ReplyDeleteGosh this is beautiful. Fantastic
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A picture of one held back by temptation, but going back to duty makes him back off? :)
ReplyDeleteVery good.
So much gentleness and consideration for a loved one. Knowing she is there in the morning contented augers well for a great day at the office. Wonderful write Robin!
ReplyDeleteHank