A new day always brings new oxygen to the lungs of the dreamers in life and this morning was high-octane breathing.
The battle scars of love rubbed against the knowledge that savoring his love was not a wise choice. Placing all the wonderful memories with loving precision in her care basket and with spade in hand she headed for her beach that was her private harbor.
The charge of ions as the waves caressed the sand fanned her body with welcome tender relief. Paul Kelly’s “Love never runs on time” played slower in her mind than it should, each line serenading a beggar man’s truth; there are no illusions in poverty.
Her spade was blue with faded yellow stars from too many days of being left in the sun but it still had some digging left in it. She had some discoloration in her heart but it would not stop her from loving life. Digging into the sand the cooled sludging mix of wet sand piled into turrets which were smugly thudded flat reminiscent of childhood scenes. A smile was there on her lips …it was bittersweet.
Looking at the memories that had made her heart jump over mountains of misery she took each one and kissed them. What was there to do but keep them safe in the shoreline of her secret beach far away from her heart that suffered a mis-beat from gazing too long into the mystery of it all.
She turned Paul off and James Taylor took his place on her stage. He waited for her cue to sing Fire and Rain
Her love for him still lived for it would never end no matter how she buried the memories…
I spy with my little eye something starting with L …