She once had a man
who thought beyond the traditional
though he had nothing against
candles and moonlight and wine.
Yes, he could be contentious
but only for a good cause
(at least that’s what he said at the time).
He’d rather celebrate
(and they celebrated everything)
perched on rocks by the shimmering stream
with a bottle of champagne
poured in hand-thrown mugs.
If the thermostat didn’t cooperate
he’d gather blankets
and they’d cocoon
high in the mountains by a lake
or in front of a fire in a drafty cabin.
She got so she’d merely blink,
let herself enjoy the contrast,
and she’s glad she did
now that her favorite playmate is gone.
About the Author: Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Patricia Wellingham-Jones is a widely published former psychology researcher and writer/editor. She has a special interest in healing writing, with poems recently in The Widow’s Handbook (Kent State University Press). Chapbooks include Don’t Turn Away: poems about breast cancer, End-Cycle: poems about caregiving, Apple Blossoms at Eye Level, Voices on the Land and Hormone Stew.