They created life of shared fruitfulness, taking joy in small toils that came in working earth; of suntanned skin and dirt-stained hands adorned in seeing bounties rise; tending with hands their small lotted place; ending days with the sun, in calming tiredness that is reward for expended effort and time well used. After sun departed, when stars shone in light of distant God and dreams, they made love in sweetness of the after-fruit that came to bear—one by one as family grew, proud of the spirits that beget. In old age, they tended still their lot and fate, still joyful in toils beneath the sun—still making love in nights, even after fruit no longer took in womb.
They loved as two souls—grafted into one—becoming greater whole by the nature of each in compliment and enrichment to other.
It was a lovely lot and a beautiful life.