Paula A. Tomey-Allen
25 March 2003
In the darkness of the night, I watch the shadows of the towering trees through the darkened shades blowing to and fro', as I feel your warm body lying next to mine and your warm breath on the back of my dampened neck.
The scent of your fresh cologne tickles my nose and I find my senses straining to capture the moment, as you place your warm, hand on my leg, and I snuggle closer to you, as we lie quietly, intertwined.
And then, as if lightening has struck the image of the moment, I am awakened to the sound of the alarm radio as it loudly squelches out the morning news of soldiers in war apparel rushing in to save a ravaged foreign country.
And, the scent, and the warmth and the closeness are all gone, as I am brought back to the reality of this time, that I am here, alone, and you are there, running through the hot, desert sand in rescue of those who fear for the reality of death.
The scent of your fresh cologne tickles my nose and I find my senses straining to capture the moment, as you place your warm, hand on my leg, and I snuggle closer to you, as we lie quietly, intertwined.
And then, as if lightening has struck the image of the moment, I am awakened to the sound of the alarm radio as it loudly squelches out the morning news of soldiers in war apparel rushing in to save a ravaged foreign country.
And, the scent, and the warmth and the closeness are all gone, as I am brought back to the reality of this time, that I am here, alone, and you are there, running through the hot, desert sand in rescue of those who fear for the reality of death.
