Aug 16, 2009

A Golden Time

The evening was quiet after a long day filled with sea trials and intel records review. Thankfully, some soup and fresh vegetables from my little kitchen garden had been prepared and left for me in my private quarters, so that I could bathe, put on my robe, and not worry about anything else.

After finishing the light supper sometime around 9:00pm, I walked to my library and began thumbing through some old journals. I suppose it would be no great surprise to anyone that Eva has always kept notes - if not formal diaries - and sketches or photographs. I stumbled upon a box labeled, "Antalya" . I had not looked in through this window of my life for years. I pulled the box from the shelf and sat comfortably in my chaise.

I found many notes from the expedition on which I traveled and worked with my great uncle, Douggal. I was between terms at university when Douggal convinced my parents that I should be permitted to travel with him to the Turkish coast on an archeological expedition. This trip would be the first of many digs as archeology and discovery soon became a passion for me.

I read through the notes and looked at my sketches for some period of time, and then along about midnight, I came across a little sheath of papers and photos tied with a white ribbon. What I found were pictures of me taken one evening at the ruins. It had been so very warm that night that I dared to take my overblouse off and was wearing only the short trousers that were generally worn under my work skirt. A young man on my team had somehow taken these pictures when I thought I was alone - dealing only with my thoughts - and delivered them to me along with this poem.






The sand a golden bronze, the sun a flame
Which sinks beneath the blue levantine sea.
We stand upon a ruin rightly famed,
The stars above our only canopy.

I hold you close and guide you through this dance.
No music breaks the calm, our heartbeats true.
This moment cannot be the work of chance.
The steps we take so old, yet always new.

I meet your eyes, a moment, maybe two.
You smile, and in your smile a dream unfolds.
We never hoped for this, we simply knew,
Emboldened by our faith in love untold.

I take your hand, we walk into the night,
Your eyes the only stars left in my sight.




Och! We were so young. And I was soon to depart for the University again.....


OOC note - this small scenario inspired by stumbling across the words
of the anonymously authored poem

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