The sun was warm. The sky was brilliant. The white fleshed apples were crisp so I shared them with you.
You were lying on the quilt building castles in the sky. Your Sunday shirt was white against the tan of my hands and the sun warmed air carried the scent of your collar to me. You held my foot the way a bride holds her bouquet. I unlaced your shoes while you rolled my stockings down. Your hands were swift and sure. Your kiss unerring.
The apple fell to the quilt. We drank of each other and feasted on love. For me the day was complete but for you it had just begun. Hidden secrets tumbled forward. Your eyes were bright when you told me of the house you had looked at. Your hand rubbed my hip. My hair fell around us when you pulled my scarf out. You tied it pirate-like around your head. I draped it over you.
You smiled at me as you folded my scarf. Your clever hands twisted the silken square together and hundreds of rose petals rained about us when you tossed my scarf in the air. The petals were softer than day old ducklings. You picked them up and I watched them fall like dreams from your hand.
The rose strewn scarf reminds me of the blush on your cheeks when you proposed. I held your hand as we shared peaches and sandwiches. The tea is sweet but it grows late.
I tied my hair back as I walked out the door. My grandmother gave me a lovely silk scarf ages ago. I' ve never worn it before but today it seems right. I have all my things together and the picnic basket is packed. I twisted my pearl engagement ring around my finger still thinking about the day you proposed in the old apple orchard.
You pulled the scarf from my hair as we laid down on the quilt together. I took a bite of your apple and smiled up into your bright blue eyes...
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