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In retrospect, the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with that summer sunlight, cascading down onto the sward where you and I sat in the deep shade of a noble oak tree— the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with that dignified roar from Yosemite Falls resounding throughout the valley and those songbirds chirping out a perfect counterpoint in the immediate foreground, the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with the dry dirt of that flawlessly unkempt softball field warming our bare toes, and those children playing— their shadows ever lengthening— in that eternal Eden… In retrospect, the nicest part of that entire afternoon was getting to spend it with you.
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May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
Love Poem
In retrospect, the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with that summer sunlight, cascading down onto the sward where you and I sat in the deep shade of a noble oak tree— the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with that dignified roar from Yosemite Falls resounding throughout the valley and those songbirds chirping out a perfect counterpoint in the immediate foreground, the nicest part of that whole afternoon— what with the dry dirt of that flawlessly unkempt softball field warming our bare toes, and those children playing— their shadows ever lengthening— in that eternal Eden… In retrospect, the nicest part of that entire afternoon was getting to spend it with you.
Ira-Desmond
Written by
42/M/American
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
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