Attention Moderators! Could we get somebody down the prompt department ASAP! And bring a bucket of water.
“Tell us about your love life,” she says. I wouldn’t even tell my wife about my love life!
Besides, there’s no point. It’s all been told before. And told better. With images of flowers in fields. Or waves lapping the shoreline. Or the sun setting on the horizon. Or little birds landing on shoulders. Or Monkeys jumping from one tree to the next.
Well WordPress, I can’t do poetry!!
You must understand, I’m not the sort of chap who can look at a tree and see something other than a tree. To me a tree is a tree, a flower is a flower, the sea is the sea, and a fluffy white cloud is just a by-product of evaporation, a mass of condensed water vapour floating in the sky.
Beneath this outer shell of chiseled male perfection is just an ordinary everyday man who knows what he likes when he sees it.
He doesn’t look at his ladies and go “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” No he looks at her and says “Woah! She’s alright.” Not out loud, you understand.
If she has the same effect a few weeks later then it’s love. Pure, raw, uncensored love! And after a year or more, if he can picture himself when he’s old, and grey (but still handsome) enjoying her company then she’s probably the one. Put a ring on it!
Maybe kids will come along and help hold the thing together. Either way, it’s not the end of the world. It’s only Love
Thank you for reading