Dear Diary, "Today I write down what my dream man would be. This is what I wish for:"
He must be a knight in shining armor, ride in on a white charger to capture me away -
He arrived in a huge, pink Chrysler and drove me from Indiana to South Carolina, back to college.
I dreamed for a man who could play the guitar for me -
He played the guitar . . . and the tuba, harmonica, mouth harp, piano, casio.
Diary, would it be to much to ask that he sing to me?
Sing? SING? That man could sing. He was the song leader in the Bible College we attended. He won that position by singing "Ship Ahoy" with such power the rafters would shake. I loved to watch him preach a sermon, then lead the singing, his hands were so fluid, his soul engulfed his music. The very first night, the night he drove from Indiana to South Carolina, he had brought his guitar and sang to me. The whole trip South, he sang to me. He wrote the most beautiful songs, and through the years shared them with family and friends. At first he wanted me to sing with him, something I only did in private, not in public. (Why, if I sang in the shower, the water would quit running, *smiles*) He has performed at Legend City and Tuba City Truckstop in Phoenix, AZ.......and places all over the States. His singing could make me laugh, make me cry, make me rejoice. He gave our children the heritage of music. This Christmas will be dreadful without his "Oh Holy Night." God, how I miss that singing!
Poetry, yes poetry would be nice. My dream man must like poetry and share it with me.
Life with him was a poem. He wrote poetry to me, and the most fantastic love letters. He wooed me for 25 years with his poetry, enough to fill books. He could read his poetry to me for hours. For our children, he could make up funny little poems on the spot. He was the one who filled out each birthday card, or note that required verse. His was a rare gift. Online he was known as "Poet," and he won several awards for his poetry. If I ever get the money this lifetime I will publish his works. What has enriched our lives will touch others. " A POEM IS THE LILT OF LIFE DRIPPED FROM THE LIPS OF VERSE!" COPYRIGHT THEPOETSKISS 2000
Flowers. What is a romance with a dream man without flowers? I must have flowers.
When we were dating, we attended a strict Bible College in South Carolina. One night, on a date at the "Furniture Store" he reached behind me and picked an artificial flower.
Many times he brought me flowers "just because" - for no other reason than he loved me.
One Valentine's Day he ordered flowers from a shop that had young men in tuxedos to deliver the bouquets.
Right now, on top of my living room bookcase is a long, gondola shaped, green striped pottery bowl full of dried roses that he has given me through the years. I had more saved, along with the love letters he wrote to me, but they were lost in storage during one of our many moves. The memories, however, remain.
He wooed me for more than twenty years with flowers.
And, Dearest Diary, my hero must be handsome.
He was handsome, and chivalrous, and mischievous, and flirtatious. He was loving, and honest, and loyal, and brave, and very spiritual. All these things added to his charm and his beauty. These are the things I choose to remember - -
......as a young girl's fantasies that live forever in my heart and in my memories. I shall surround myself with that beauty and opulence.
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