~~~A
summer time piece from my post-Civil War romance, Hand-me-Down Bride
~~On
the way to the hayfields, Karl and Sophie marvel at the beauty of a blooming
field of Buckwheat.
Karl
watched her. She had walked into the
field, delighting in the moment, in the sun, in the sea-froth-over-sage color
of the buckwheat. He'd caught a flash of
her joy; joy in the splendor of this land!
After
the long and terrible war, after his illness, it had been hard to find joy in
his heart at anything. Today, Karl felt
free as a swallow, flashing over the rising corn.
Sophie
was framed against the light, her plain apron lifted by a firm young bosom, her
dark hair wound beneath the bonnet.
Above, great clouds sailed in shattering blue, and the buzz of those
thousands of bees echoed some dream space he'd been to before, the white hum of
eternity.
He
tied the reins to a sapling and got down. He had wanted to put his arms around
her, to mold her breasts against his chest, to catch the scent of her, to drink
from those rosy, undoubtedly sweet lips.
Now, he waded into the field after her, wanting even more to share her
moment of happiness.
A simple gift. . .
"Das ist schon!" Face radiant, she
turned. "It is beautiful!”
~~Juliet Waldron
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