Old Typewriter Style

I opened my eyes,
Now awake, and looking around
Above me I saw,
The blueish purple color
Of sky.

I could feel the heat
Of the rising sun on my skin,
The cool of the grass,
Under me.

Still half asleep,
Wondering if the day,
Had been real or,
If it had been a dream.

My eyes watering,
but as I opened my eyes
My dream was it a theory,
Would I be proved wrong.

Lying next to me,
Outstretched behind me,
On the other side,
There he was my dream.

Only thing was,
It wasn’t really,
A dream at all.

I reached out to him,
Ran my fingers through his hair,
I laid down again facing him,
With my head resting on him,
Until the last light of the day.

It was is there was a light
Shining on his still sleeping face;
He made me smile like a child,
He was finally here with me,
And I couldn’t believe it.

I whispered into his ear,
Those three little words,
That I had wanted to tell him,
For so long before now.

I noticed a slightly wrinkled
Piece of paper clutched tightly,
In his hand, still asleep,
As I reached slowly to read,
Hesitating halfway,I proceeded,
To the curious paper anyways.

As I unfolded the paper,
My heart sunk nearly,
The top of the paper read,
In old typewriter style ink,
“I Love Her, Telling her today,”

A single tear ran slowly down,
Off my cheek landing on his face,
He turned towards me,
And kissed me tenderly.

3 thoughts on “Old Typewriter Style

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