(Part 8 of 8)

So you say, Owen, this is great –
You told us part of Tracy’s tale:
But now, upon you we’d prevail
To hear the rest – you’re at part eight –

Okay, so they’ve been married now
Awhile. I asked her, “how are things?”
She said, “Oh, flowers he still brings,
Surprising me. And yet, somehow

I manage to surprise him, too.
With little things that I might plan.
A woman likes to keep her man
In wonder as what she might do.”

I saw her smiling wryly and
I knew that things were very good.
In fact, I thought I understood
The gleam upon her wedding band —

That love is life, and not a game:
There are few rules, and those aren’t fair:
Yes, love is different everywhere,
And yet: it’s everywhere
The same

(Part 6 of 8)

But something yet her conscience stung:
She had a younger sister who
She’d “raised” since they were ten and two —
Their mom had died when they were young —

This sister was a troubled soul
Who really, really hated change;
Her marriage, now, would rearrange
Big sister’s long-time cherished role…

She knew she had to tell her, though,
And meant to do it face-to-face.
She pulled up to her sister’s place
And wondered how well it would go

Her sister sat in silence stunned.
“You’re getting married?” – all she said –
And turned and sadly shook her head,
For love and men were things she shunned

And Tracy sat there for a spell,
Then quietly got up and left.
She knew her sister felt bereft,
And so did she. There is no hell

Like that a family has inside,
When those within your hopes would drown
And try to hold you back or down.
There is no gulf that feels
More wide

(Part 5 of 8)

That winter, their first trip they’d take –
To do some shopping, see some sights –
And there, beneath the Christmas lights
By an unfrozen city lake

The walked along a winding track.
She didn’t notice him look out
Or have suspicions, any doubt,
Or see the ring behind his back

They reached a bridge out to an isle,
He stopped, and got down on one knee,
And asked her, “Will you marry me,”
She looked at him with such a smile

As he remembers to this day.
Of all her looks he loves – the best –
She gazed him at smiled, “…yes.”
And then a band began to play

That he’d arranged. It all went right:
The trip, the walk and everything.
He hadn’t fumbled, dropped the ring –
And she said yes. Oh, what a night —

(Part 4 of 8)

He showed up at her door that night
With flowers in his shaking hand
He told her he was sorry, and
He hoped that he could make it right

She thought about her father, who
Had never once apologized
Exactly then, she realized
This man was different and true

She said, “I’ll never this forget:
I’ve seen now what a good man does.”
And prettier, he thought she was
Than ever he had seen her yet

It seemed so good, what had been grim:
And two new things that night occurred:
Apologies were new to her
And making up was new to him

(Part 2 of 8)

It seems they’d dated for awhile
When Tracy had a sudden dream;
Although awake with eyes agleam
This newly burgeoned philophile*

Saw well beyond the mere-mundane;
To how their love would be fulfilled –
The life, together, they would build
She saw it, waking: clear, and plain —

= = = = = | = = = = =

* philophile (fil-oh-file) n., made up by me, meaning “lover of love”