We stroll down the road on our post gorging constitutional. It’s a little swervy tonight but we safely negotiate our way. Home Sweet Home, here we are.
Up in the room I tell Sweetie Pie that the boat at the shore tonight has me thinking of a poem. I read to her…
Meeting at Night
a poem by Robert Browning
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
I take Sweetie Pies hand and hold it on my chest. I pull her close and kiss her, letting my hand slide from cheek to neck to breast. “Two hearts beating each to each!” I whisper to her…
Goodnight!!
