THIS WEEK'S WORDS come from "Where did the handsome beloved go?" by Rumi: handsome, midnight, garden, rooftop, overflow, cypress, trembles, rose, search, mine, water, tell
The words inspire me, yet I seldom am able to use them all. This time I left out mine. I could force them in but the story is complete. I have a sensitive heart, so the words resonated with me. Romance is in the heart of the beholder, and often life is not as romantic but in fiction...
When you know...
Midnight was approaching, and he knew the time to propose to his girl was near.
The rooftop garden he rented for the evening was glowing with little fairy lights and roses.
There were tall cypress trees along the railing, a nearly cloudless sky with the moon overhead cast a glow on the two of them.
They enjoyed a beautiful dinner and champagne earlier in the evening, while soft jazz wafted around them like the gentle breeze.
It was warm for a fall night, but cool enough to cause his girl to snuggle closer to him. He just loved the way she gazed up at him with love. Could his heart handle being loved?
They both felt stunned to have found each other.
They both were content, and secure, that they would face life hand in hand. There was no urgency except the desire to start that life as soon as possible.
She made him feel handsome when he knew he looked ordinary. Maybe her beauty shining from inside, glowed onto him, casting a light that made him feel handsome.
It didn't matter what his physical looks were, it mattered that she saw him. His heart nearly overflowed with joy as he searched her eyes for her reaction.
He had thought about his words carefully for days now, searching for the right ones. He wanted to say something she'd always remember. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, and that he would be true and strong, soft and yielding, a partner. He wasn't the best with words, and hoped she would know what he meant deep in his heart.
Oh she was so pretty, and calm, and he felt confident that this was the turning point in a hard life.
A chance meeting, when he first saw her he somehow knew it would be easy to love again. Life is hard, loving is not if you trust someone. He trusted her, and felt her trust of him, and it made him a better man.
The small fountain in the cyprus gurgled gently, the jazz softly mingled with the water in a moonlit dance.
He turned to her, pulled her into his arms and felt her slight tremble at his touch. In a minute he would tell her of his commitment and love, but for now he wanted to sway with her feeling their balance together.
He stepped back, knelt, looked up at her, and felt a tear drop onto his hand from her eyes.
another lovely: ( so nice....)
sunday whirlagig writing prompts