0067 The Perfect One [20 August 1997]

Author’s note: Another piece of romantic fiction from a hopeless romantic teenager. Please excuse the sap and that I seem to be stuck on silver-eyed, dark-haired men during this phase of my poetry. lol

I wait silently,
My father on one side,
My step-dad on the other,
Holding each arm as my left holds the bouquet.

A sudden realization hits me,
I, a virgin, on her day,
On who has longed for someone
For someone to love her.

And here I am.
Waiting to follow my bridesmaids,
My best friend,
My maid of honor.

Trembling inside,
I cannot believe just yet,
That here I am,
Meeting my soon-to-be husband.

This man I am to marry
Was a dark man,
With dark, black hair
And eyes a silver only outshined by the moon.

My two other bridesmaids
Follow the maid of honor,
In smiling at me,
And walking down the aisle.

The tall figure of my fiancé
Is seen by me
Down the aisle
That will lead me to forever.

Never could I have believed
That a woman such
As myself,
Would soon marry this man.

He is handsome,
Powerful and strong.
With broad shoulders
And muscles well-defined.

I take a deep breath
And take a step.
The cue arrives and I go,
My fathers holding on.

My veil obscures some,
But it hides my face,
Likely red with disbelief,
And tears of joy.

I remember,
As I take that seeming long road
To the rest of my life,
Things that happened before.

The first time I met him,
I knocked him on his ass.
And fallen on top,
My head next to his.

His laugh I remember well,
For it filled me
With emotions before unknown
Even as I blushed.

I had knocked him over
As I was running from my mother
Whom I did not like at that moment.
But I forgot all about it.

And all because, I remember,
The first time I looked
Into those eyes
Such beautiful blue eyes.

I had never known
An emotion like that I had felt,
As I lost myself
Into those pools of molten liquid.

His smile dazzled me,
And his strength,
Astonished me as he lifted
Us in one fair swoop.

His tallness had intimidated me,
With a frown,
The woman he was with
Began yelling.

I stared into his eyes
Hearing not a word.
Only when he looked at her,
Did the spell break.

I suddenly felt stinging
And I noticed my palms
Were as scratched
As a cat’s post.

Knowing I would never see him again,
I muttered an apology
And walked away
Intent on clearing the rocks from my palms.

My mother’s voice had, then,
Startled me.
I looked frantically around
And hid in a bush.

The deep laugh I had heard before
Entered my ears again
And a shiver rippled
Up and down my spine.

I looked up to see him,
Standing over me,
His girlfriend gone,
And a strange happiness had colored his face.

I had rubbed my hands
To free the rocks
And felt new stings
As I dragged the rocks
Across my already tender skin.

He then knelt beside me
And took my hands in his.
An electric shock hit me then,
And I jerked backwards.

I fell once again,
But before I could hit the ground
He deftly caught me,

And as I looked up,
Once again,
Was I caught
In those silvery pools of blue.

He lifted me,
Again surprising me
With the well of power
He drew from.

My mother found me then,
Against my wishes.
I frowned as she yelled,
And I turned to walk away.

A strong hand gripped my arm,
Refusing to let go.
So instead I turned and yelled back,
“But I am not you, Mother!”

Silence but for the songbirds
And the hand gripped harder, reassuringly.
She stared at me,
Then nodded, a hurt look upon her wise face.

“I know,” she muttered,
Tears forming rivulets on her cheeks.
“But understand, please?”
I nodded and then left the grasp on my arm.

I gave her a hug,
One that told her
That I did understand,
And that I loved her.

With our disagreement over,
I turned to the man
Who was as handsome as any
Man described in romances.

A smile met my gaze
And laughter met my confusion.
I thanked him,
Again thinking that I would never see him again.

He inclined his head in welcome,
And turned his disarming smile
Upon my mother,
Who, I could hear, was flustered.

He spoke,
His deep voice causing strange emotions
That caused strange feelings
To center in my lower stomach.

“I am Devon Yorkshire,”
and he bowed.
I smiled and answered,
“And I am Hannah Dubaye.”

He smiled and turned to my mom
Who smiled in return,
“I am Sheryl Dubaye.”
And she laughed.

He seemed much older than I,
So I turned to Mother
And asked to go to the car
Hoping this man could be hers.

She was lonely,
As was I,
But her need, seemed,
In my mind, more so.

The eyes I had stared into
Turned to me in confusion
As I walked away
Mourning the loss though I knew him not.

I had reached the car,
When a hand laid itself upon my shoulder,
Thinking it was Mom,
I turned.

Only to be grabbed,
And shoved into a bush.
An ugly, bearded man
Had decided I was tasty enough for rape.

I screamed Devon’s name loudly
In the hope that he’d hear.
As my shirt was ripped open,
The man had been ripped off me.

Still trembling,
Yet another hand took mine
I screamed in confusion
Fearing it was the man again.

I was pulled against
A heavily muscled chest
And a gentle hand stroked my hair
As a soft voice soothed me.

I realized then it was Devon,
And I wrapped my arms
Around his midriff
In a need to feel protected.

I lifted my head,
“Mother – “
He shushed me,
And said only, “I’m only interested in you.”

I laid my head on his chest,
Again feeling his muscles
Through the cotton shirt,
And reveling in the power he held.

My shirt was slashed,
But my bra, thankfully, was not.
My mother wasn’t anywhere near,
And I looked questioningly at him.

“She’s back at the pond,”
I shivered, remembering
The man’s greasy hands,
Pawing at my flesh.

He hugged me tighter to him,
And I clung to him
Even though I knew him not
He was sanity in my chaos.

When he finally noticed
My shredded shirt,
He took off his own
And gave it to me.

I had it on
Before I noticed
The tank and
The muscles exposed.

I grabbed my sides
And he put his arm,
Companionably and perhaps, a bit possessively
Around my shoulders.

We walked back to the car,
And I leaned against his warmth,
The warmth that cured the cold
Of what had nearly been my demise.

After awhile,
Mom’s loneliness was short-lived
For she came walking down the path
With a man she would marry.

And now,
Here I am,
Walking down the aisle
To the side of a man.

Preparing to say my vows,
Hear his and
Be blissful
With the man of my dreams.

About taikodragonjkf

Member of Spokane Taiko. Poet. Karaoke singer. Love cats and baseball.
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