Green, lush Palm Trees and purple Wisteria are bathed in God's tears.
Seashells decorate the windows I'm staring through.
Salt floats in the air.
Waves kiss the sand in the distance.
Mermaids sleep in the warm dreariness.
Goddess snores on the cool tile floor and my bare feet rub her golden coat.
Wounded deep in battle my guitar stands like a soldier undaunted in the red room.
Beach music plays softly in the background.
Wind Chimes hang quietly with nothing to sing.
"Is it Sunday?" Cassidy asked yesterday.
"No baby," I reply knowing she's ready for our weekly tradition of Cinnamon Rolls to celebrate the Lord's Day and each other.
"Awe," she sighs.
The memory makes me smile as the oven preheats and I prepare sweet delights for the girls who fill me with delight.
The rain stops.
The sun dances in the hair of the Palm Tree with the oyster eyes, coconut bra and grass skirt.
White clouds dot blue skies.
I feel God's love.
I'm too humbled by it all to mumble a word.
"Thanks."
