Frances and Mimosa, Sipping Dinner

Hello God.
Frances here.
Yep, sitting beneath the Mimosa tree again, and sipping my dinner.

Watching you through the leaves fluttering in the breeze.
These blues eyes of mine never were very strong, but everyone liked them, said they were loving.

Funny how dark the sky is without that old moon. But, the stars are there. I wanted to see that old round night thing one more time, though.


You know, my Bob loved that old moon, and I loved Bob. He had a laugh like children at play time. He had hands rough as the dirt, big as shovels since he worked the dirt so often. His ears looked like doors stood wide open in a spring breeze, but his smile would make a mean bulldog sit down and smile, waiting for a pat twixt the ears.

I miss his hands. I miss his laugh. I hope you will let me see him again, soon.

I lived a life of laughs and love, no children though.

No regrets, God. My life was spoiled and I know it.

God, I hope you like the view I have. I surely do.

Give me a chance to see you and Bob, and I will help other people in any way I can. I would help others whether ignorant, poor, rich, high born, religious or just wayward.

Give me a chance, God.

I can wait for an answer, just need to fill my dinner glass, again.

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