Vintage love


Desert flower

There he was stroking her every tight curls of hair round his fingers

with every sip of his tea

As she lay on his lap babbling her daily adventures

On the same spot and exactly at the same time everyday since the day he married her

From getting the kids ready to school to teaching the pesky college students

There he was lost for the right words in the peak of her vivid little descriptions

As she clearly hated being disrupted between her epic story of the day

How he loved her big eyeballs rolling in the socket of hers as she flashes her eyelashes at him

Admiring her huge frizz of ball on her head

A right word perhaps is a birds nest

Just like her and her mind

Her hair was full of secrets

The secrets of simplicity and natural beauty

In a world of salon treatments


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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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