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Drifting

10 Jun

 

It is a soft, still afternoon.

It is slowly stirring from the morning’s drab dullness.

The light is becoming pale honey.

There is bird song floating in through the open window, bleating of sheep, a distant dog barking somewhere beyond the trees, horses hooves nearby.

I live in the country. Trees and hedges, narrow lanes, small ancient villages, a patchwork of fields that are home to sheep or cows or are yellow with rape, green with wheat or blue with flax.

Sometimes I feel far from the world.

It is easy to drift.

Like today.

I have practised Pilates, I have meditated, I have drunk tea, eaten lunch, and sighed at the world on the web.

I am now tapping out words which will somehow, magically, weave themselves into sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and then a book.

But still, it is easy to drift.

And to let myself think of you instead.

Wearing a simple summer dress that kisses your curves perfectly.  Your hair is free, your smile warm, your eyes laughing. Your beauty makes me sigh. And smile.

My fingers leave the keyboard.

I close my eyes and breathe you in. Across the miles. You fill my mind.

Your presence inhabits me.

There is nothing here but you.

It is a soft, still afternoon.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Vladimir Volegov

 
7 Comments

Posted by on June 10, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

7 responses to “Drifting

  1. SCM

    June 10, 2021 at 1:30 pm

    Beautiful…

    >

    Liked by 1 person

     
  2. SCM

    June 10, 2021 at 1:50 pm

    >

    Like

     
  3. thereluctantpoet

    June 11, 2021 at 1:10 pm

    Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.

    Liked by 1 person

     
  4. Leslie Meeks

    June 11, 2021 at 9:00 pm

    Love this.

    Liked by 1 person

     

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