Eternally
I stand in rays of sunshine,
stroking window glass.
Winter’s draft invades the cracks,
a ghost mist I can't see.
Cool air hits my skin,
shivers graze my spine.
His gaze is hot upon my back,
my thoughts are purely sin.
A silhouette of naked form
I stretch and wander back
to that moment, long before
I ever knew his name.
With cocky charm and crooked smile
he leaned against my locker,
crossed his arms and ankles too,
his effect so much like liquor.
“Excuse me, please,” I whispered,
heat rouging red my cheeks.
Eyes locked on the ivory squares
beneath my size ten feet.
“I’ll let you pass, but first,” he said
“you must say the magic word.”
“Please?” I tried, but failed to move
his muscled, six foot frame.
“Try again,” he teased,
with merry, lime-green orbs.
Then to my total bafflement
the words I couldn’t quite believe:
“Just say yes, ‘tis easy ‘nuff,
and I’ll pick you up at eight.”
He punctuated those sweet words
with a jaunty wink.
At twenty-two I wore white lace
and claimed him as my mate.
Two cars, a house, a dog, and then
ten tiny, dainty toes.
A baby girl, then twin boys,
we held them all so close.
Diapers, walkers, dolls and trucks,
soldered to teenager’s angst.
I wrinkled here, I wrinkled there
my breasts began to sag.
I traded in my size five jeans
for tens that were half stretch.
Yet every night he’d say in truth
you’re beautiful to me…
You’re everything I need.
In our lives we’ve crossed so many
bridges, roads, and seas.
Yet always grasping, reaching out
to try and touch our dreams.
My hair might hold a silver thread
his might be thinning fast.
The grand kid's music seems too loud,
and what’s with all those baggy pants?
But steadfastly I fall for him
like dice tumbling from a cup.
Sometimes landing solidly
sometimes in an awkward lean.
The changes happen gradually
you hardly even notice,
but suddenly the mirror image
is one you’ve never seen.
When in my knees I feel an ache
I’m pulled from my reverie.
I limp a bit, back to the bed
where he lies so placidly.
He takes my hand and plants a kiss
between each gnarled knuckle.
His breath is warm, his tongue is wet,
it jet skies down my throat.
“You gorgeous girl, you wanton vixen
I’ve got a gift for you.
Bend your body over mine,
and once again you’ll touch your youth.”
He takes me back to virgin teens
then fast forwards to a scene
of he and I, the cat, the dog
all lounging on the porch.
In my hand, a glass of tea
my other hand in his.
Two rocking chairs that face the east
to watch as each sunrise begins.
We bend, we move, we spiral back
to childhood and our teens.
We sing, we laugh, we fly on faith
through adulthood and advanced maturity.
We mix age up and shake it still
in photographs and memories.
We live, we cry, eventually we’ll die,
of that we all agree.
We live inside a two-tiered glass,
pass from one life to the next.
And if growing old is this divine
I’ll gladly sail these white-washed sands.
Until the last grain makes its drop
and I land just below.
There I’ll wait until I feel
the glass has tipped again,
bringing me back to my love
on sands of eternity.
Silver trophy winner
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
Sighhh...I hope it's not always "only fiction", trista...for you as well as for me...This is a lovely penning, Lady...Congratulations on winning the silver...Thank you for your kind words on my entry...Be well, Poet...
wonderful, wonderful work...and thanks for posting it in the reading room!!! 
