mnemosyne's asks

In Dreams 13

Chapter 1...Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9...Chapter10… Chapter 11Chapter 12

The afternoon sun is warm on his face and the wet sand under his bare feet yields in a way that is very satisfying. She’s ahead of him, maybe by twenty feet, palming the top of a floppy straw hat so the ocean breeze doesn’t carry it away. He feels like he probably already chased it down once or twice. She’s got a thin piece of blue fabric tied around her waist in a makeshift skirt and a white bathing suit on. Her pale Irish skin has turned warm and new freckles dapple her shoulders and back.

A little warm hand squeezes his and jerks his arm. He looks down to find a little girl, no more than four-years-old, with shoulder length strawberry blonde locks, wispy and curly at the ends, like baby hair. She is hopping on one foot, and with great determination, her mouth set in a concentrated line. He loves her so much it makes his chest hurt.

Keep reading

Devotion

Dreams of memory like a sunquake
Beneath the flutter of my heart’s desire
Fuels emotions recalling to me, “are you in love?”

As if Monet himself stroked the daylight long
Yes, I stalk my love like a Malayan Tiger
Courting her hand for mine: Yes we are sublime!

All these memories freed of Time now burn
Bright like a lamp in my heart of devotion
Once dwelled ancient upon the land, a Shangri-La

Where Mnemosyne herself asks again: “are you in love?”
Yes, I am lost in the ardent fields of you, my love.


© K. James Ribble