Into the lines

What say you? can you love this gentleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast.

The train pulls in, I search the crowds of people from my hiding place. My heart is in my mouth and I run my hands through my hair nervously.The summers sun is high in the sky, Southampton has never looked this beautiful. Finally a solitary figure appears at the doorway.

Read o'er the volume of young Paris's face and find delight writ there with beauties pen. Examine every liniment and see how one another lays content. And what obscured in this fair volume lies, find written in the margant of his eyes.

I wait a moment, taking in this first glimpse,watch as his eyes scan the crowds and hold my breath as his gaze finally meets with mine. He smiles.

This precious book of love, this unbound lover, To Beautify him only lacks a cover.
The fish live in the sea and 'tis much pride for fair without the fair within to hide.

As we walk I keep glancing over at him, sneaking looks as he talks of all the things he wants to do, the people he knows and loves, the dreams he has. It comes naturally, easily even to talk to this stranger. To share everything with him.

And so shall you share all he doth possess, by having him, making yourself no less.

The summers sun is a thing of memory now but as the leaves come tumbling down to our feet I am still walking with him, still sharing our hopes and dreams, always on our way home.