For many years, we’ve walked the vale
We’ve climbed the hills, and wrote our tale,
A tale that started long ago,
A pretty girl and her handsome beau.
Both were hurt, and both were healed,
And both were touched, and both had kneeled,
Under the Hand of Kindness.
He saw her, and his heart awoke,
His mind, his body, his soul were smote.
He thought of her, he was obsessed,
Her voice, her look, the way she dressed,
Were all his single focus.
Unable to respond in kind,
Unsure of this attentive mind,
She only sought to keep his heart
From ever being broken.
But broken it would ever be,
And half a man forever he,
Would remain except that she,
Was able to be won.
“All is fair in love and war”
And yet, I think there’s something more.
A heart cannot be forced or pushed,
Romance neither canned nor rushed.
A soul cannot be bought with stuff,
With empty promises or fluff.
Cool cars or flashy suits
Or glossy hair and shiny boots,
Enticed her not.
And so, he put her walk with Christ
Above his love, above his rights.
What’s best for her is best for all.
And that’s the way it was.
Oh we hear of many songs,
Of love unrequited,
Of hearts broken and alone,
Of loneliess that burns like fire,
Pain that never seems to tire,
Mind that’s weary, yet still inspired,
And hopeful of a change.
But change comes unexpectedly,
Thoughts can turn impreceptibly,
And hearts are kindled inexplicably,
As if it were all planned.
A fateful night in winter snow,
Magic under street lights’ glow,
Skates and scarves and laughs in tow,
And dare my heart believe?
Romance is enhanced, I think,
By location and the scene.
Paris, Rome, Hawaii, would be the best it seems.
Or maybe Acapulco, or Rio, or Milan?
Missing from this list would be the Calvary Church van.
But that is where our hearts were knit,
And somehow fits us well.
We fell in love in Detroit,
And that’s our tale to tell.
Shovelling snow, saying goodnight
Our chaperones had fled.
She shyly opened up her heart,
And precious words were said.
Would I ever give her a chance?
Her question was to me.
My response had been prepared for months –
“Julie, you’re dear to me.”
And so you are my love,
My darling and my dear.
And as I reflect upon our love,
I hold these memories near.
But our story isn’t over,
It goes on, Julie and me.
New chapters added to our tale:
Tom and Julie Three.