making love in the garden
Morning light graced my cheek, the clock read 6:15 and my body said no way as I slowly put one foot in front of the other in search of a steamy cup of coffee. My legs and back are sore from a weekend of pulling weeds and planting flowers. The pain is worth the feeling of accomplishment and the fact that the herb pots are once again alive with aromatic goodness makes me smile. There will be a few more mondays with sore muscles before my garden will flourish with love but I’m okay with that.
This day began in the mid-fifties but as I tip-toed across the dewy deck, admiring my work, I heard the weather man promise a high of eighty-five degrees before this day is done. I took a deep breath and another sip of hot coffee as thoughts of bare feet and long summer days in the garden crept in.
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