Modern girl, eh?

             Modern clothing? Bah. My love of romantic
frills, tight cinching. Ah the love of all things
feminine.

             Forget the thrills of cosmetics and silly
contraptions of hair dryers. Ah give me curlers,
ribbons and pins. Hmm.

            Only modernism I love is the independence
and the raves of new medical inovations. I love having
a hearing aid and the choice of either glasses or
contacts. Instead of being blind and deaf.

            La the love of parchment. The smell of ink and
scratchings of the quill. Sounds any poet, writer finds
absolutely blissful, yes?

           Call me silly if you want but I am a romantic.
I do so love a good love story whether a happy
ending or a tragic one. Either way the gift of love is
hopeful.

           Hmm. One more step of joy as I dance in
white frilly cotton. Ribbons pulled tight but still
allowing freedom of a pale, freckled shoulder. Hmm
indeed a brisk breeze uplifts and caresses light
kisses across soul.

          Oh thank you Jehovah for my love of classics.
For the mind of a hopeful romantic and the thoughts
of a poet.

         Hmm. Softly I whisper a prayer. Hoping one
last dream to follow through for the evening. One more
hope to be drawn.

         Stay happy. Smiles with me as I close my
cornflower blue eyes. Hold tight a memory as I
tuck myself under a velvet coverlet. Praying my
dreams are as good as today's were. Hoping that
Jehovah fullfills even more and I attain a few goals
in the process.

        So a sneeze echoes. One last sip of tea
and I enter a peaceful rest. I pray tomorrow I will
awaken once more.

       Do you hope for that too? For one more breath
for me, for you?