Poem for her 331

Dear Readers,


When the days are long,


I stand at the window watching the sky move
I see a tree branch spring and turn to tell you
I ponder the Prism on the window frame
It breaks apart the light and reminds me of a cape
I haven't heard your voice all night long
Though I could watch your face on the moving pictures
I know the day is longer still to wait
To see your smile as I open the car door
Hand you some flowers freshly picked
When nothing but you can fill the fingers of my hand
Laced together and held there holding sunlight
Split into the colors of the prism glow
Waiting for the days to shorten just a bit
Till your hands dance with mine again on the porch


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.