The Case

I opened the case. The fresh, mint sea swept, sun bleached, creamy scent hit me like the ice blue and white crest of a wave.

The open case beckoned me like Narnia and I was gone, through a funnel, back in time, long time, short time, over miles and lands and seas, back to where I should have been.

Ironic, that, when I was there, I was never really there at all - I was looking sadly forward, through a hundred mirrors to here.

We stood on the cliff top, by the statue of Christ, and I was not there, with you at my side, I was sadly looking over the miles, over the months, to here.

We embraced in a pool of sea-scape sapphire blue, only the veil of water between your skin and mine, yet I was here.

We drove up the mountainside, under the shade of a thousand trees, and out into a sun soaked heaven where the slim clouds could touch out to us with fairy’s hands and kisses, yet I was here.

Still more ironic that I would give anything to be back there again.