I had a planned topic already in mind until bedtime last night when my wife’s hand brushed mine as we prepared for the nights sleep. I took her hand, and the thought came to me that our anniversary was the next day, which would be today. With her “Hand to Hold”, in mine, I recalled another poem that encapsulated our love story very succinctly.
The beginning: As a teen I would make the walk from Nile to Friendship to utilize the “ice skating” rink made behind the school. One late afternoon while I was skating, a few younger teens came and joined in the fun. One stood out from the rest and caught my attention by her youthful beauty. I was 16 and she must have been 13 or so. All I learned was her name. I thought to myself that she was going to turn into a real gem for someone, a few years down the road.
Well, “down that road” happened a few years later when I was home on leave from the Navy. While cruising the streets of Friendship looking for my “brother like” cousin Bill Miles (now deceased following a tragic late night car accident as he was returning to home from his job in Cuba), I pulled over and asked his girlfriend who happened to be walking down the street with this lovely young lady, if she knew where Bill was. They hopped in my car, and we proceeded to track down Bill. We spent the evening, as many Friendship “kids” did, sitting on the steps of the Compton & Heary Furniture Store. I was smitten and asked if I could write to this young lady after returning to base. I did, and what follows is expressed in the first following poem.
54 years later as of today June 24, 2021, I hold her hand nearly every night before falling asleep. That precious happening is further expressed in the 2nd poem that also follows.
From an Ember to a Flame
We met upon a winter’s day, when chanced upon the ice to play.
You were a youth, I, but a teen, our fate unknown, and not yet seen.
Unknownst to us a spark was lit, we went our way not knowing it
Our paths diverged as oft occurs, but crossed again in later years
That spark, that ember, once so small, became a flame one magic fall.
That flame became a fire of love, fanned by the wind sent from above.
Although a fire may lose its blaze, our love grows stronger each new day.
Hands To Hold
Thank You Lord, for hands to hold, big or small, young or old.
My mothers were the first I’d see, so soft, yet strong, they seemed to me.
When school days came with years that passed, my sister’s hand would hold me fast.
The teenage years, the hearts first crush, when holding hands would bring a blush.
In time, a special love would bring, A hand to hold to place the ring.
The love that followed, would bring to birth, new hands to hold, to walk the earth.
The years have passed and still we keep, our hands in touch before we sleep.
Thank You Lord for hands to hold and taking ours within your fold.
Happy 54th Anniversary to my friend and wife Cheryl
