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With his hand in the small of her back With his hand in the small of her back
by Abigail George
2020-08-09 10:45:35
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The glories of love, he whispered in her ear. You are all the glories of love when I look into your eyes, when I hold you in my arms, tight around the waist and feel you tremble in my arms. It was true, the girl did not care for furs, she did not care for laces, all she could see was the boy's smile as wide as the ocean-river, even his hair had swagger, she told her father with a laugh. She was happy.

suset001_400The boy made her happy. It was clear to see. The stars shone like diamonds in the sky. Starlight was in her eyes when she stared at the boy, into his brown eyes. And at home after a night on the boy's arm, she wrote in her journal, pen in her mouth, biting her bottom lip pensively as she thought of all the ways to describe love, as she thought of all the ways she could reach the boy through her words for he could see everything. Every emotion, every feeling on her face, her sweet upturned face as she looked at him, or studied his profile, or glanced in his direction whenever he made her feel shy.

You keep me standing tall in ways only my father did before. You keep me strong in the eye of the storm. You are a sanctuary, you are a room, you are silence, you are guardian of the moonlight, you are more than Mr Clooney's smile, you are perfection even though you are imperfect and I am imperfect. I fear my love that sometimes I might overthink the situation, that you might fall out of love with me, my smile, my dress, my intelligence, and will you always be good to me, will I always be good to you, my love, my love, my love. And I want to help you through it all. Nothing is going to keep our dreams apart now, my love.

We are moving on through it all. Through the dark clouds in our coffee, through the dark clouds on the horizon, through the rain, we are still going to dance, we are still going to kiss, we are still going to hold hands and each other through it all. Fire and ice doesn't matter. We are going to stand tall, defeat is not the name of the game. The name of the game is love. The name of the game is love.

Let us remember that we did it all for love, the girl said, turning her face away from the boy with the magic, and her unborn children in his eyes. The boy with his hand in the small of her back.

Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"All about my mother" & "Brother Wolf and Sister Wren"
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!



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