Her hair smelled of hay,
summer rain and first kisses;
breathless, petrichor.
His fingers trembled
childhood’s last tattoo, across
her pale, arching spine.
Ryan Stone
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Her hair smelled of hay,
summer rain and first kisses;
breathless, petrichor.
His fingers trembled
childhood’s last tattoo, across
her pale, arching spine.
Ryan Stone
by Sam Allen
a curation of thoughts
Oriana Riviera
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In memory of Grace Alexandra Claire White
No Rules - Just Write
Lovely!
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Thank you ๐
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This is fantastic! You managed to convey both the innocence and desire of the moment in so few lines. Love it! ๐
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And you just made my day ๐ Thank you, Georgette.
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My pleasure. โบ๏ธ
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mmmm…..love this Ryan! Summer and innocence- reminds me when I was a little girl playing in my neighbors haystacks. You’re so good :))
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Thank you, Souldiergirl. To be able to stir a memory like that is such a compliment. You’ve brightened my day once again, thank you for taking the time to comment ๐
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You are so welcome! Thank you Ryan for sharing your gift- You are a natural and I love to read your works- I have catching up to do :))
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LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE!!!!!
Ryan, seriously, you need to put all your haiku together and publish. I just read this one on the W.S.S. this morning. I wish I could write haiku how you do! ๐
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You’re far too kind, Al but I won’t say no to such lovely feedback. Thank you for making me smile ๐
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Love it!!!
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Thank you, Shayne. So nice of you ๐
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That’s lovely Ryan! Simple, elegantly done – love it!
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Thank you, Nicky. Simple – that’s me;)
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I am in love with this word (and of course I have written about it) What a sincere and pure time. The stories you tell, the feelings you arise, mixed with the smell of earth after the rain.
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Wow, such amazing feedback. Thank you, Dajena – you inspire me to write more.
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๐ you are welcome, and so do you!! ๐
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