I love this piece. I wrote it as a final for my Composition 101 class. I got a 4.0 in the class. The poem this story is based on was written long before the story.
I now present to you "Reflections" written/last updated on November 23, 1998.
Reflections
As she looked into the mirror, brushing her long silver hair, a single tear ran down her cheek. The tear slid down to her delicate jaw line and dropped onto her silk night gown. He had given her this night gown. The dark green silk unwrinkled as she slowly stood. With every step the delicate fabric wrapped around her slim ankles. She walked over to her desk and sat down. Out of the top drawer she took a bottle of ink and a feather pen. She placed these next to the rose bordered stationary on her desk. Another tear ran down her face and landed on the paper leaving a small wet spot; she didn't notice. Slowly, her shaking hands opened the ink bottle and dipped the pen in it. As the pen touched the paper, her thoughts flowed onto it.
As time goes by,
Like it always does,
I think of you
And how it was.
Your bright green eyes
That sparkle and shine;
Your short black hair,
So unlike mine.
As she wrote these words, she remembered how she use to look when she was younger. Her hair was the loveliest color of red and His was a stunning black. She wished she had a color picture of those years.
That suit you wore
To our first dance;
I'd ask you again
If you'd give me the chance.
Her memory floated back to the day she had asked Him to a school dance. She had been so nervous that she ended up not asking Him until the week of the dance. He said that He would love to go to the dance with her and that started the beginning of a lovely relationship that lasted for many years. They went to all of the school dances throughout the rest of their school careers. He would always ask her to the dances as soon as he knew about them, which was always before she knew. She wished she could turn back time and go to another dance with Him.
And our first kiss
On that perfect night;
It felt so real
And oh so right.
A small smile came to her face as she dipped her pen in the ink again. She remembered that day as if it were yesterday. He had asked her to a school play and she had accepted. During one of the set changes, He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Her heart was racing so fast. They never saw the end of that play.
The time you tried
To sing that song;
So off tune
And truly wrong.
The picnic lunch
You loved so much;
With sweet apple pie
And your favorite punch.
But the times
I loved the most,
Were riding the horses
Along the coast.
The time you tried To sing that song; So off tune And truly wrong. The picnic lunch You loved so much; With sweet apple pie And your favorite punch. But the times I loved the most, Were riding the horses Along the coast. Another tear fell onto the paper. She set her pen down for a moment and looked over to the mirror she had been sitting in front of earlier. That was where He would stand and comb His hair while she was writing a poem or story. He hadn't had much hair left in their later years together but He always combed it to make sure it lay in an orderly fashion. She would always steal a few moments of watching Him until He noticed. He would turn to look at her and blow her a kiss. She would giggle and catch His kiss while sending back one of her own. She could still see Him standing there if she tried hard enough. Another tear fell onto her night gown. She turned back to her poem and picked up her pen again.
Now as I sit here
In my chair;
I watch you as you
Comb your hair.
I remember
The times we shared.
Don't you think
We were perfectly paired?
She signed the paper and dated it. Slowly, she put the cap back on her ink and wiped the pen clean. She put them back in their places and centered her completed work on her desk. She slowly smiled as she looked at her last master piece. She stood up slowly and made her way to their bed leaving a trail of tears behind her. She pulled back the covers and climbed in. She shut her eyes and joined Him in eternal sleep, never to wake again.
Copyright 2001, K.C. Ramey. Don't take this without my permission. you can read it but don't steal it as your own. If you want to use it as an example please e-mail me with what you want to use it for. sardogmom@yahoo.com