Night we watched the stars (The)

The Night we watched the stars

We sat by the sea, Sally and I.

The tide had risen, and the waves were crashing rythmically on to the
beach. We talked
about the sea's beauty, and about how the moon's pleated silk
reflection shone as it
rippled onto the waters surface. Shone like crumpled foil.

We discussed the reverence of the White Horses as they galloped unshod
toward us,
white maned tips, as white as the pure thoughts of the innocent child.
As white as the icing
on a wedding cake.

We listened to what Neptune was saying as he sent his army of waves to
whisper
seductively in our ears, and thanked him for the consche shell he sent
for us so that we
could take the sound of the sea home. We heard his voice in the wind as
he sang to us of
dolphins, mermaids and sprites.

We tasted the salt as it sprayed up to fall like snowflakes on our icy
lips. Tasted the light
rainfall. It was so sweet and untainted by chlorine or zinc. We tasted
the air as it moved
between our lips to lie crisp and fresh on the tongue.

We smelled the tart tang of the seaweed, and the wonderous fresh, clean
smell from the
body of the sea.

Then we touched the sand, clasping handfulls and allowing it to slip
softly through our
fingers, granular and yet with the combined texture of satin and
taffeta.

Finally we extended our arms behind us and lay onto them, tilting our
heads back to bathe
in the radiance of the blooming moon. I closed my eyes and felt the
moonbeams dancing
over my eyelids, allowing my secondry senses to assume dominance and
tantalize me with
their touch, taste, smell and sound.

I opened my eyes and gazed at the indigo sky. Indigo like, like a
velvet veil. Blue like a
song so poingant it makes you cry. We talked about the stars, silvery
like glitter cascading
through your fingers. And silver like fairy dust sprinkled from above
on people in love.
Silver like the gossamar angel who comes to take you home, at the end
of your Journey.

Sally loved 'watching' the stars. Was dazzled by the moon, and awed by
the beauty of the
sea.

Ben knew when it was time to go. Intuitively, he felt that his mistress
was ready to move.
He put his beautiful head, (Beautiful like a Retriever) in Sallys lap
and nuzzled her hand
with his wet nose.

Sally took hold of his harness and stood. She no longer groped in her
darkness, not with
Ben beside her. The three of us moved slowly back up the beach, never
flaltering on the
uneven ground. Sally's love for Ben expressed in her unwavering trust
of him to lead her.
Ben guided Sally expertly home.