The Pearls

by frogbook

Pearls cascade in a dewy waterfall,
mesmerize with their secret inner glow.

What's that she sees in her intense gaze,
a luminescent moon or sun's bright rays?

She stares at the opaque orbs,
dreams of a night with billowing curtains,
lifted on the air of a gentle breeze.
An ethereal shadow floating slowly to her bed.

Effervescent hands reach out to her,
opaque fingers offering the prize.
Shimmering gift draped over her hand,
radiant pearls she beholds.

The surprise not in the gift, but the giver.

Her eyes raise slowly to the face of her lost love,
smiling sweetly, but with such sorrow.
"But you died on the ship," she whispers,
sacred words not to be spoken aloud.

He only presses a finger against his lips.
Bending down to place a delicate kiss on her forehead,
he is gone, once more.

Days later an old friend calls to tell of his great sorrow,
at the loss of his companion since childhood,
and her dear husband of so many years.
He tells her of beautiful pearls,
purchased on the shore, before the shipwreck,
only to make their bed on the floor of the sea.

When she tells him, she has seen them;
he thinks her mad, but when she describes them,
He has no words.

She tells him of the delicate etching of her name,
On the clasp of the necklace, and he doubts no more.

So, it is almost daily now that she holds those orbs,
marveling at their silken feel, so like her lover's touch,
dreams of when she will see him again,
and be lonely no more.

Pearls cascade in a dewy waterfall,
mesmerize with their secret inner glow.

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The Pearls

by frogbook

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