Spotty Dress

The dress, that one dress.
Loved more than a lady and a her new ball gown.
From every sting of every raindrop.
From every glow of sunlight,
And every piece of dust that may have laid upon it,
It will never fade away its love.
Worn from day to day,
Getting more and more special every second,
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring,
It will forever be the same.
Hanging on a hanger,
The dress’ spotty material,
Dancing to the air of darkness.
Just wanting light,
Wanting warmth on it again.
Holding the dress, feeling the love pour into my soul,
Seeing her smile, feeling her love.
As though she is back,
The soft touch of the dress as though butterflies are fluttering,
Against my finger tips.
The love of my great grandma, touching my soul.