Thursday, December 22, 2005
his big, ruggard hand holding hers in the cold.
as the sun begun to set at one end, an old couple was sitting on the bench at the park. taking in the simpler things in life, they seemed contented with looking at the scenery. sudden gusts of wind blew and the fragile old lady shivered. her husband rubbed her shoulders gently and warmly. as they continued their simple moments, the old lady's hand was snuggled safe and warm in her husband's big and ruggard hand.
sweet, strong, silent romance that puts many things to shame but yet at the same time gives forth a glimmer of hope.
for the record, i shall state here that Mr Jonathan Jung is quite a good singer and not a monotone dragger. and this is not written out of fear or threats or blackmailing bull. this was written by my own free will, but however if he does call me nuts, i will will the strength to smother him or kick him in my dainty ten dollars slippers.
'that's why i'm easy, easy like sunday morning.'
hazel
2:30 AM
