Poetry and Such
Peonies are bowling me over this year. Don brought one in to me and put it in a glass where it sat several days on the table by my chair. I'd reach over and touch it, so like the skin on my breasts, exactly that feel. They spend all day in the sun and feel like that. It's such a miracle. And to look at them, this white one of yours, my eyes never tire of wandering where the petals lead.
Just for the record, I gotta say my comment is sort of 'out there.' But rather than delete it, I guess I'll leave it and rejoice that I felt that freedom.:-)