My kind of Bliss.
The sun warming my back,
A daisy fighting to bloom through a crack. The cry of a Red Kite an Owl hunting at night and plants budding in spring.
The smile in his eye when I laugh, The heat in my chest when he strums me a riff, a whisp of a touch or a kiss as I pass.Those are my kind of bliss.
When my face nuzzles his beard as I turn in our bed, In the morning, he tells of a sound that woke him: and swears a purring was heard ... “silly we don’t have a cat.”
When he joins me on the floor, behind the jamb of a door; chin in my knees face wet, he strokes my hair,rubs my back as we rock.
The burbling sound of my laughing throat. Being wrapped in my lovers coat, when we make love under the glow of the moon, ignoring grass stains that we glimpse through gaps as we spoon.
These moments are not often, but slip bettween stages of our lives, like butter to bread they keep our love fed; sealed with a hint of a kiss. This too is my kind of bliss.