We are old, now, my wonderful love ...
older than that holler between the hills
where first we met
and I heard you makin' music
and just knew I had to have you
by my side.
You have aged a bit, it's true,
but you respond to me
with as much passion as before
when I cradle you just ... so ...
in my arms.
~~~
Do you remember that first time,
our first time?
I remember touching you shyly,
almost reverently,
afraid to push you too far
but unable to keep my hands from you.
~~~
Easing into my rhythms,
you soon joined me,
matching me note for note
as sunset sky yielded to
the night's starry darkness.
~~~
Now, just as always,
but then again maybe more,
I love your melancholy
and the sweet tenderness of you
that surrounds me
in the quiet of an evening
on the riverbank,
with only a pesky wood owl
bearing witness.
~~~
Let me caress you again, love,
the fingers of this hand upon your frets,
the others strumming you
with abandon,
tuning up.
© Candice W. Coghill, September, 2011
Watercolor "Tuning Up" by kind permission of the Artist Rod McIver and his site "Heron Dance":
http://herondance.imagekind.com/store/imagedetail.aspx/b0ec3b7b-2f39-48d8-a16d-1ef37215638d/Tuning_Up
