
there is something ever so special about picnics
the excitement starts when preparing the food at home
knowing it will be consumed alfresco
wondering which spot will be chosen
will it be by a flowing river or on a sandy beach
I carefully packed the picnic basket in the car
hunger pangs grew stronger while driving
heading out towards Assateague island
discovering a beautiful spot on the bayside
a picnic bench overlooking the bay
hardly anybody around on this cool spring day
watching the seagulls gliding by
wild ponies wandering through the distant marsh
kayakers rhythmically plowing through the cold choppy waters
you carefully arranged our picnic lunch
the food you had prepared was divine
gulping the salty fresh air with each delicious morsel
the chilled rose was a perfect pairing for the cool breeze
closing my eyes with every sip to see the long hot summer days to come
picking up the apple with my left hand
as my right hand reached out to hold yours
gripping them both firmly for a few tantalizing moments
squeezing your hand hard every time I bit into that apple
savoring the sweat tangy taste of that juicy fruit
pausing a long time after swallowing each mouthful
you gave my hand a gentle prompting squeeze
before every delicious crunching bite
that apple lasted an eternity
While reading this poem I was compelled and inspired to really focus on the pleasure I was receiving from eating a perfect BLT Lee had made me for breakfast. So so good to be very present and focused.
LikeLiked by 1 person