Andrea Vukovic


Him


The warm spring sun meshed with its cool breeze,
Hit my light jacket as I walked on carefully arranged stones to the table.

I pulled out my work and set it down.
He sits next to me and echoes my action.
He watches me from across the piece of glass separating us.

The heat he brings to my cheeks every time he looks at me returns and is cooled once the breeze whistles by.
I see him reach out for a speaker and play his favorite layout of music.
The sound of country rings through out the air.

I look around at all the trees as I breath in the smell of fresh cut grass.
I scoot closer to him and he looks at me with the same blue-gray eyes that I’ve loved since the first time out paths crossed.

I gently brush my fingers across his paper helping him with his work.
He suddenly took my hand and tilted my head towards him.
The taste of his oh so sweet familiar lips on mine warm my essence.
His kisses are the flowers of love in full bloom.

Every moment I spend with him I feel more and more loved.
There’s nothing I could ask more of him than that.

Submitted: Thursday, April 10, 2014
Edited: Thursday, April 10, 2014

Topic of this poem: love


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