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Not long ago, my wife did die,
I hoped to also, that’s no lie,

The reason that it did not occur,
Is that I did meet "Her."

In my life, there was no glee,
And I “knew” that there would never be,

“Special Love” happens once in life;
I had spent mine for my wife.

Still, I thought that I might find,
A friend that would ease my mind.

It started out innocently,
I signed up for Eharmony!

I knew I had very little chance
For a hot, passionate romance, 

But if I were afraid to try,
Why not then simply die?

By now, you may have sussed,
That Love, for me, is a must.

Something in what she wrote,
Caused me to take special note.

I scrolled up to her photograph,
And it almost made me laugh!

That she would post a photo that bad,
And suddenly I wasn’t sad!

Now I had to see,
How she looked in reality

We set a date, and time, and place,
When we would meet, face to face.

Rose in hand, I arrived at the place,
Searching for this lady’s face.

No one looked remotely near
Her appearance, she hadn’t shown, my next fear!

In the midst of my self derision,
In the corner, sat a vision.

Looking like the work of an Old Master,
Hair of chestnut, her skin alabaster.

When she saw me, her lips did part,
Her smile hit me like  an arrow in my heart!

I felt foolish to be carrying a rose
Anyone that sees us knows,

She is far too lovely to be with me
And that she would soon cut me free.

After that date, I waited a week,
My walking papers, I did not seek.

I asked her out again,
She said, for that, she had a yen!

That date went well, and a few more,
But she told me about her love score.

Her last relation had ended badly,
And she said that she couldn’t say “I love you,” sadly.

A hot poker, in my heart did stay
I tried to tell her every day

That if she loved me, I would try
To be the World’s most attentive guy

To do whatever she thought would be 
The sign that I love her eternally.

Just when I sensed her impending loss,
An idea, my mind, it did cross.

Poetry I did write,
When she read it, it did ignite

A small fire in her heart,
And perhaps in every other part

Now she tells me every day,
The first thing, without delay

That she loves me, rare and true,
And there is nothing that I wouldn’t do

To keep this Angel satisfied,
And most of those I’ve already tried

I don’t know how long she’ll stay,
An Angel may have to fly away

If she leaves, I know I’ll cry
But I will love her ‘til I die.

Rick Rucker
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