Morning glory opened violet-blue in face of the gray-front dawn. In porch rest sit, in place beside, Anna wore shirt of matching hue; its long sleeves worn drawn fully down, white-button of cuff in fasten of close as top three of front bore loose and open in wear that showed in hint pale tops of breasts in fair beneath suntan’s cover.
She was beautiful in opening, like morning glory in beside—forward facing, outward growing from front-step fall into open light of lawn.
He sat in quiet and contemplation in admire of both as beauty. She was beautiful in hue and under’s free, her fair-skin borne and faintly bared as hint of heart-center as flower beside—pale and white and striking in contrast and frame of violet-blue; the shape of her breasts in under-free showing hinting even in their cover; their shallow of high-soft of start in slope into whole of pear-shape full that rounded in shelf and curl of undercup.
She smiled soft, a gentleness in eyes, as she sensed his own in focus and draw; aware too of her natural’s beauty: covered and open, guarded and free, hint and share of fair heart-center framed in violet-blue
He would write it someday—she and scene and flower’s show—beauty of a simple, natural way.