I know, it totally doesn’t make sense to anyone, but after being gone for a while do you just NOT know where to begin? That has been my problem. So just a few minutes ago, I decided. Just begin at the latest memorable date….which was August 2nd 2010.
He sends me roses. I think there just has to be a song or poem in that phrase SOMEWHERE and I probably have it in me…SOMEWHERE but not this minute in time…it will have to come later. Maybe tomorrow. But today I am sharing a verse I wrote years ago. I have never shared it. There hasn’t been a reason to.
He sends me roses…..every year….this year was no different. If he could afford to send 40 he would have…but I would have skinned him alive….
I don’t know why, maybe because he sent me red roses for our first anniversary….and it has become….significant.
A fun weekend of fishing with friends set the pace for that special Monday….we were doing what we both love to do…even though it wasn’t a fancy expensive extravaganza…
Think of two old seafaring captains,
Telling a tale about their adventures on the sea
Or a story about the life they lead
Or maybe a story of you and me.
They would talk about the mighty storms that rocked their grand ole ships;
About the sunsets on a paradise island, about gold and jewels and pirates;
They would tell of squabbles and brag a bit,
Each would think his tale was the better one,
Of life and loves, and it seems to me…
our life is a story just like the sea, never ending.
Think of two old friends, sitting in front of a barber shop;
Having a coke, and sharing a joke, telling a story;
They would talk about the good ole days, what it was like to be young and courting;
They would mention a love not soon to be be forgotten; a love with laughter, sorrow, and mourning.
These two old friends would chat a while and watch as people walked by;
Sometimes not having to say a word, each knowing what the other was thinking about….without being heard.
Think of two young lovers, sitting on an old porch swing; holding hands and giggling, watching falling leaves and listening to birds sing. Stealing a kiss now and then and blushing; wondering if anyone was watching.
It is a story our lives once knew…innocent, tender and still true.
Think of a story, with a beginning and no end;
Of two lovers who have become the best of friends;
Two friends who became the best of lovers;
This is a story like no others.
It could be told by two seafaring captains
Or two old friends
Or two young lovers
This story is a special one, still being written, with all I have spoken of.
And
“He still sends me roses”
40 years…still going strong…I am one lucky (blessed) lady.
