The Madness of Love

Unsure of His Love

Unsure of His Love



For several moments you left me sitting there

With a longing in my heart, I yearned so to share.

Voices all around us played a background noise.

A mother scolded her group of seven boys,

But you did not hear them, nor turn and look,

Nor seem to notice that with tension, I shook.

The winds kept whispering into my ear

That you felt little love, but, of course, you couldn't hear.

The glitter of our bond was fading far away.

I knew it was over that you would never stay.

A little girl was running; her french fries flew

As she glanced back and knocked right into you.

You caught her, stopped her, dried up her tears,

Soothed her distress, and comforted her fears.

When she had gone, then you turned back to me.

"One's not enough; I think we'd have three."

How could you sit, calm as you please,

Smiling with sweetness -- ready to tease?

But were you saying you wanted kids -- with me?

I'd thought we were through; I'd thought you would flee.

"You mean it?" I asked with some trepidation.

You smiled once more, and without hesitation,

You pulled out a ring you'd been meaning to give,

Asked me to wear it, and talked of where'd we live.

My relief was so great, I wanted to sing!

I sighed and kissed you, admiring the ring.

And on that bench we started to plan.

For that is the story of how our marriage began.


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