He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night whispered to him, such as the book of fables she had slid into his hand. All this and much more till the early morning. He only stopped when the wings of dawn touched the window pane.
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"wings of dawn" *
"Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night whispered"
A moment made perfectly real. Great form for the piece. Strong work.
Soft, tender, complete, enduring devotion. Such is love.
The light goes off. The light comes back. In between so much.
A moving, tender meditation on love. Beautiful and sublime. *
"wings of dawn" is a lovely image on which to end.
Interesting comments from everyone. Many thanks.
Such a precise yet powerful portrait here.
Lovely comment, Matt. Thank you.
"...the heavy night whispered to him."
Also, the book of fables.
Lovely writing, Beautiful vigil.
Lovely work.
Dianne and Gary, many thanks for your appreciation of my text.