The Sweet Gift.....

The Sweet Gift of Conversation

Poem written by: Tyrone W. (inspired by lil ol ME)

It was a dismal and rain soaked day, here on the East Coast

And I had a sweet surprise, one that I so proudly want to Boast

The clouds seemed to roll away, as I sit in awe at my Desk

My Eve sent me sunshine, so far away from the West.

My Eve, My Eve, took the time out to say Hi

My mouth was speechless; my eyes wanted to Cry

It still mystifies me, that someone so pleasant, is not another's Wife

As I think about male/female relationships, and the true meaning of Life

She is born in August, and that month means magnificent and Grand

And she dates and has friends, but has yet to find that wholesome Man

She is age 36 and soon to be 37, and brazened with a Californian Tan

She causes the waves to rush onto the shore, and become one with the grains of Sand

Awaits her that special guy, that would protect her from the evils of this World

And make her the center of his universe, just like an oyster does a Pearl

One that would take a bullet in his heart, if it met the sparing of her Life

Or gladly give up both kidneys, if it met her life continued on void of Strife

Pleasant and womanly and one to be stern, if you rub her the wrong Way

And delicate as daffodils in full bloom, during the rainy month of May

She offered me a gift, but I was content with the sweet gift of conversation, Today

Sometimes I wish like Adam's Myeshia, she was fashioned out of East Coast Clay

Her Grandma saw things in her, which others might not See

How much joy she would give to another, in Holy Matrimony

It's a lifetime commitment, as two imperfections become One

And that's my wish to for her, as I close with the setting of the West Coast Sun

So another day has come, and like a vapor, it so quickly is Gone

I leave you with these words of comfort; I hope I have penned no Wrong

May these words dwell within your heart, and eradicate all of your Fears

As we get to know one another, as days turn into months, and months into years.