Her name was Mary

Sunset Mary - WPress1

Her name was Mary.

Mary would carry baskets of blossoms and blooms she had picked that day from meadows touched with a morning dew. As the sun would set, she’d pin a red rose upon her chest. Her daily tour was to bike for miles from her flower-filled isle to the mainland beaches she’d often explore.

Miles on, feet never tire as her heart pumped pedals. Her bicycle tires spinning, flower petals shimmering; as simmering summer days passed along paths by her way on sand and shore.

Her purpose was to create love in others; in a sense so shy of love herself, pollinating their romance and desires by sending her into their love within. Herself planted like a wildflower into the fields of lovers all along her daily way. Nature’s own bouquet. She shares her flowery common scents, as this was her loving and daily chore.

Salty waves of sweat lap upon her rose red lips, her hips and sunbonnet sway along the sea’s breeze. Her dockside ferry carries her along to another world, all alone with her purposes as she moves along. Selling her flowers to people on ship as she gathers her tips, and as they stroll along the beach-fronted promenade boards.

So as the sunset shown the day’s last light, love’s destiny had one remaining insight. Mary knew she had only one more bloom. Her bicycle and her would be there soon. She would hurry now; her money all earned and all day along, her duty sent her further to deliver this rose. So close to her; her heart-warmed chest, was this single rose that she had worn since dawn.

Along rows of grit gray stones, her reddened, ripe rose was onto its final resting place. Not much longer now. Darkness would soon arrive to take her away. For Mary, we know now, not being so ordinary, found her love within the the local military honors cemetery.

Here it was so customary, and had become Mary’s daily sanctuary. Loss for her husband’s life taken so soon, ever since that day after they were married.

He’d been lost to her a long time ago in the battlefields of the war to end all wars. She vowed to end her days by his side, and that she did this day and always forever more.

As the sun rose each day her love for him had always endured.

~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK
(inspired by a vivid dream)

Tagged with: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Poe'ems
One comment on “Her name was Mary
  1. What a beautiful story you have written here. It kept my attention to the very end. Nice job.
    Love the photo in this post. You have talent as a writer Eric. A+


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