Skipping stones with an angel

She sauntered up one fall noon wearing her western boots,
Carrying a freshmen grin with hints of a rural rustic agrarian.
Tossing her hair, she offered her name enthused, no time to lose,
Confidently delighted, assured in procuring another friend.
On learning my name, even though it was just a pleasantry,
She smiled beaming rays of delight like an angel looking up at me.

I remember that moment like Pecos Bill had just ridden through
On his spotted steed, like I had just been blessed by a fairy and then,
Poof–  I’m cast in the Little House on the Prairie but with just us two.
The force of our meeting nearly moved my granite defense;
It hit me like a tsunami of innocence, and left me swirling in eddies;
Like a tornado of unbridled joy bubbling beneath my feet.

The winds of time softened her blow to a sweet melody– ageless,
But my stone seems too old and heavy to join her flight with the angles.


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