Wednesday, May 25, 2016
A trail of rose petals
from garage door to bed,
you waiting on your knees,
a big grin on your face
but a little worry in your eyes
that I might not 'like' this.
Oh, but I did, my love.
The bed draped with a red checked cloth
red plates, red napkins, red-faced...
A tray arrayed in red fabric
with strawberries, olives, almonds
assorted meats, cheeses, crackers
After an appropriate dress code is achieved,
he slowly hand feeds me our dinner picnic
talking quietly about our respective days
loving each other with each word, each bite,
each touch, each moment
Gentle spoonfuls of mango sorbet
complete our repast
The only ants are the two pomeranians
circling the base of the bed,
hoping for a bite.
(Written and posted for Mid-Week Motif, Poets United, "Picnic", 5/25/16)