White Rose - Faithful Love
by Carol Abbott ©
He had always loved her;
Wanted what was best for her.
From the time that they were both children
He knew that it was True Love.
She had freckles sprinkled 'cross her nose,
Green eyes and bright red-gold hair.
Her eight year old legs were long and coltish
As she slouched in the Attarondack chair,
A Nancy Drew book clutched in her hands.
She looked up at him through long-lashed, laughing eyes.
A smile played at the corners of her lips,
Eyes filled with half-shocked surprise.
He clutched a rose, a long stemmed white rose,
Plucked from his Grandpa's garden.
And he held it tight in his hand.
A dull red blush shown upon his sunburned cheeks,
And a stammer trembled his voice.
He had rehearsed and practiced what he would say,
For He wanted to sound worldly.
He was, after all, the 'older man' of ten
and a half, which made him 'almost eleven.'
'Ruthie, will you be my girl? I really, really like you."
"You know how to throw a ball and aren't afraid of worms.
I have more fun when you're around. You're just so different
Than the other girls!"
Ruthie carefully laid aside her book, on the wide arm of her chair,
And standing up, she unconsciously brushed a lock of bright hair
Behind her shell like ear.
Her smile was lovely to behold,
For one brief moment, Thomas saw a hint of matured beauty
That she would possess when they had both grown quite old.
"Sure, Tommy. That would be swell."
And with those few, simple words Their Life-Long Pact was Sealed.
|.....by Carol Abbott, October,1999|
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