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My review has been submitted for consideration in "
A curious thing, but, if your intro eliminated the letter "e" in describing this unusual piece, it would have elevated the concept to higher heights! However, in trying to substitute the lack of "e" thereof, would require inserting a word with an "e" within it. (Fifth letter of the alphabet would be prohibited, indeed!) 
Sometimes we just need these little distractions to take the mind away from all this Covid 19 stuff. For that, I thank you! 
Interesting flash fiction that makes a reader ask questions about the benefactor's gift and his subsequent disappearance. He loved books, that much is for certain!
The library was a fine setting to let the reader peruse the shelves while picking up a strange scent not usually associated with books, musty or otherwise. 
The ending was sort of tribute to Gilroy, I believe Live by the books--die by the books. But that's another story all together. 
I did catch the hint of how the story would end when the narrator disliked the idea of returning to the smelly library to work when he became an adult; was surprised to find the old building did not smell the way he remembered in his youth. We find out why, of course.
Good conclusion! We all know where the remains or the remains would remain long after the narrator's retirement. 
The title and brief description paved the way for a true love story that kindled for fifty years.
I loved the fact that romance knows no boundaries on the timeline of a happy marriage. This couple shared a love that is described brilliantly. Fifty plus years later, they were still in love until the very end. 
This is a lovely tribute to your grandparents' undying love. The reader could feel their romance threaded through the poem with the imagery of rose petals, I envisioned them as red -- a sensually romantic flower dedicated to love.
I love how you connect your readers to your Indian culture. We who are not aware of how marriages are arranged, or the youth of the bride or least of all the abuse of a young bride at the hands of in-laws who keep her practically enslaved doing all the labor their whims demand. Horrendous way to condemn a youth at the start of a marriage.
Romance is embroidered throughout the lines of this sonnet. The reader feels the sweet romantic love that endured, only separated by death. Yet, the heart holds on to that love forever. The memories of the times, places, and experiences let the reader feel the romance of an unbreakable bond.
Your sonnet is a masterpiece of love, romance and using all the senses so that the reader could feel the emotions -- they are genuine from start to finish. 
I could actually sniff the scent of honeysuckle in these lines. I see the crooked creek, I even hear its sound! It's a perfect backdrop for all the senses to be awakened. The touch of a breeze's kiss? ... Perfect!
This is a truly romantic sonnet. The flow was unobstructed. Even the crooked creek flowed without interference for the reader. 
The last lines, so very touching, brought tears to my eyes. If we are given a true soulmate in life, we are indeed very fortunate. Such a love keeps the heart warm even after the death of the other half of the couple.
I feel their bond because the words told me that is so in this couple's life. However, I did not feel the romantic side as equally because the emotional tug was missing. I tried to picture some sweet moments of a couple with such a tight bond that pulls away from everyday "noise" that depletes our energy from its bombardments. 
I believe a few more lines about quiet moments shared together, fireplace, or view outside a window, the natural snuggling of a content couple, the sense of further romance that makes them who they are. I'm not talking about erotica, just a hint that romance is in the air. Perhaps he made her dinner, lit some candles and took her mind off the tough day. The reader would feel the loving tenderness and thereby feel the emotions of romance you wish to convey.
This is indeed a poem of true love. It's just missing, in my humble opinion of course, the hint of romance that the reader could take away when the poem is done. I believe what it comes down to is there is more telling us about the love and relationship, rather than showing us so we can actually feel it. 
Indeed it was. You wrote a romantic poem. The couple have shared fifty-five years of marriage, and the wife was the narrator in this poem. She describes them in their youth and then their dating years followed by marriage. Children were introduced into their marriage years after. 
The rhythm is off between these two lines. The syllable count in the second line is 10 words and the above rhyming line is only 8 words. Those two extra words make the line a bit bulky. 
You have slammed Cupid right to the character's pathetic little heart. You've called him out for the damage he is and has done, proving indeed he is a "demonic little mole."
True love?!!! 
Although I'm a fan of free verse, I still have my pet peeves. By not capitalizing the "I" in the several contractions of I will throughout your poem, it gave me pause, thus interrupting the free flow of the free verse. I may not be the only reviewer who got distracted by this. 
Other than the above mentioned issue, I found this poem to be rich in the natural beauty of nature and its enjoyment. A quest for city-life, although an exciting pursuit, may lack in that gorgeous backdrop that made for a wonderful art piece for the reader to enjoy. 
Burgh Island! What a lovely backdrop to your story. You create a sense of mystery and luxury within the surroundings of the Burg Island Hotel. I could picture the Art Deco ambience through your descriptions. Naturally, my curiosity compelled me to look it up on the internet. Very cool! 
You followed the prompt being a reporter tossed into the Roaring Twenties. The Nazi presence and timeline meshed believably. 
I loved this Southwest Louisiana method of celebrating Thanksgiving! The "house-chef" and enjoyed preparing different dishes for the feast. The only thing missing was the huge platter filled with poultry. It was slim pickings in the rainy swamp area -- not even a duck to bring down! 
Luck as it may have it brought a change for the better with the son, a shotgun and a dog. 
Alligator? But of course! 
Sadly, the youth was by herself for Thanksgiving. Holidays can be very tough for those who are alone, and do not find the joy of those times within their hearts. 
Touched the heart. It makes a reader see that not all Thanksgivings are warmly met and celebrated with loved ones.
Short Story, 1000 words or fewer. 
New entries written this month, for this prompt 
End the story with the words 
"Happy Thanksgiving!" 
