The mossy bank sloped gently down to the narrow, tinkling stream and, smiling up at him, I dangled my toes in the cool water.  The shine and sparkle of the fast-flowing water, as it tumbled and giggled over the stony bed, filled the pretty glade and reflected off the silvery bark of the slender birch trees.

I perched on my sylvan throne and buried my face in the fragrant bunch of wild violas, that he had thrust into my trembling hands.  I breathed in their glorious, sweet scent and then paused and listened to the woodland as I gradually regained my composure.

Earlier, our presence had startled a family of shy moorhens and they had scattered off into some bushes, to watch, nervously, at our passionate display. One of the little dears had veered off towards some bull-rushes, further downstream and now “peep-peeped”  plaintively, denoting its distress.  Suddenly, with a hurried rush and much frantic rustling, the rest of the group waddled swiftly to join the lone bird and all was well.

A slight breeze lifted the leaves of the tremulous birches and a chill caressed my bare skin.  I reached, dreamily, for my clothes; still in the afterglow.  Not only the earth, but the planets too, had paused in their orbit and then spun dizzily, breathlessly, once again.

As I pulled my dress over my head I caught a glimpse of him leaning against a tree, with such an expression on his face.  A mixture of  wonder and self-satisfaction.

” See how he gloats !”, I smiled,

And he bent to kiss me.




This is my entry for last week’s Countdown Word Game.

This is the game invented by Matt Mascarenhas and you will find details on his blog page at

The words to be included were:


About rosiewrites2

Growing old, disgracefully and enjoying every minute.
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