Be True To Your Love
There was an afternoon delight filling the air when Mister Love’s renaissance attitude kindled the free right debate to hold a popular social position before having the sunset dinner reservation with only one. For some time, the former youthful success story led the pack only to give up the winner’s circle at the end.
“Rapid it up Art,” comment came from the gallery filled with curiosity, “it was a good show.”
Still dripping water Art placed the sponsored owned board in the sand before confronting the kind thoughts, “I have to find some surf somewhere to be a winner again,” was his reply to losing down the stretch.
“Art you are not an A and C artist,” another stranger reminded him about why his name was not flashing in lights, “you are a B one.”
Starting to laugh with a winning smile Art retorted about his competitive security blanket, “I was favorite and slated to win,” the mature frustration came out, “but in a second there was that Southwind frost and all I could hear from you all during the show was ooh rah.”
“Well, this event is always a good time even know Art Love did not finish in the prize money,” one supporter honestly stated before taking a second to say, “good day mate.”
It was then Art Love who never lost his copper teen bronze showing noticed the number one trophy he won over hunkered down near the healthy drink vendor booth with a straw in a can. “Remember Art when you were out of the money.”
Seeing who asked the question, “you past a note to me in school class that read, ‘ideal Tyson A,”
“You had that good-looking high-spirited image,” the lady reflected flashing the silver ring, “what could I say.”
“And I came into your energy zone Hanover,” Art used his wife’s nickname he gave her when presenting a bowl full of roses before the seasonal springtime scholastic dance, “and suddenly I was a winner.”
Congratulatory arms suddenly flung around him, and Darlene pecked him on the cheek, “can we now celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary.”
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