her grace, his strength

On the back of her hand, scribbled notes, faded and merging letters, left him little clue…insightful as he was, his intuition failed. This slight indiscrepancy would not lead him into her heart or mind today. Far off in the distance, bees lazily buzzed and droned, while daisies nodded, dozing and tiny finches, those dwellers in the meadows across the Lake, did their usually flitting, oblivious. Crack! The branch above made a whipping sound, falling twenty feet straight down, it pierced her sundress bleached white and pinned it to the ground like an arrow on target. She looked like a stunned angel, pink cheeked and flustered, pretty as a picture. He gathered her skirts, gently dislodging the large splinter. A tear of tenderness hung from her cheek scaling her chin. As it landed, brushing the ground with the force of a feather, her eyes turned a different shade of blue and graced the day with some loveliness. Her grace, his strength, a match made.

her grace, his strength

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

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Artwork Comments

  • F.A. Moore
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Mui-Ling Teh
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  • Tine  Wiggens
  • © Karin Taylor
  • kenroome
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  • Robin Monroe
  • © Karin Taylor
  • AnLile
  • © Karin Taylor
  • BasantSoni
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