The Little Things

The Little Things

In summer robe she sits

Bathed in the late morning sun

By the large east window

Barefoot, with slender calves

Crossed beneath the breakfast table

Pouring intently over the sunday news

Her long dark hair thrown to one side

Ruffled but beautiful

Illuminating her face

As she leans on her hand

Teaspoon still held in her fingers

While the steam rises from her favourite cup

That small furrow appears

As something written strikes a chord

The captivating light in her eyes

Processing a world of ideas

As her mind deciphers the fact from fiction

Unseen I smile to her across the room

At the little things that mean so much

Things she doesn’t even know she does

That make her stand out for me

My woman, my equal, my lover and friend

I set her favourite brunch beside her papers

And her hand reaches out

Clasping my retreating fingers in thanks

Holding on a moment while she finishes a paragraph

Until her eyes turn up to me above a smile

This dream come true

Radiant in the sun’s glow

And the light reveals her femininity

The hidden silhouette through the thin material

Stirring memories of our late morning


©Copyrighted by Colin Ryan (2010)


2 responses

  1. J

    fleeting joy in the sigh of united souls.

    April 2, 2011 at 10:49 pm

    • I think these two make more than fleeting joy together. I think every moment they share is joy

      April 14, 2011 at 10:21 pm

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