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An art student, she was a mysterious brunette,
whose most stunning feature were eyes of piercing
tanzanite; silent and deep as a fathomless ocean.
Even the most skillful sailor, caught in those whirlpools
of blue light, which knew no depth, plunged into the 
waters to drown.

He was a conservatory trained tenor with features
as striking and hard edged as sharp granite massifs
standing against the sun. Coeds swooned, especially 
when they heard him sing. His voice was as sweet 
and thick as fresh cream before becoming sweeter 
butter. If he sang four measures of "Maria," from
West Side Story, coeds would mentally disrobe him
and dream of languishing in his arms, as if struck
by mystical lightning.

The eyes met the voice on the
campus green on fine spring day during
"Art at the Student Union." She was displaying
2 water colors and an acrylic. Fittingly, he was
singing "This Nearly Was Mine," from South Pacific.
The eyes heard the voice crooning atop a temporary
stage near the Union. She waded through the crowd
to hear. When close enough to the stage to trade
glances the eyes lapsed into fantasy so quickly 
her knees quaked. The voice never wavered after
making contact with the tidal pool that were 
her eyes. Still safe atop the stage he mentally 
rejected a life jacket and dove full bore into
her swirling blue waters. She drew the voice into 
the depths of her tanzanite sea, enfolding him.
His voice threw off sparks that would make
Van De Graff pale, electric portraits in sound.
She now paints arias on canvas of his granite features.
His voice flares blue sparks. Lighting the air with sound.
All this from a mutual glance on the campus green!

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