I must measure the length of a man.
Longevity I treasure, but brevity I ban.
I don’t need one who is finished before we’ve begun.
I want it long.
Does he last for a minute or has he continuance?
Is he here for today or rooted for permanence?
If he has what it takes, then he has a chance,
Because I want it long.
The race is not given to the swift, but to him who’ll endure.
It’s not the pleasantness of the face that is the allure,
But the strength of his character and a heart that is pure.
These are the qualities needed for a relationship to perdure.
When the pressures of life come his love will persist.
Though all else fail, his love will exist.
For love is the core of marital bliss,
And upon it a marriage will feed and subsist.
A man who has the power to stay
Is the only one welcome to come this way.
One who is fit to marry
Is one who will commit to tarry
And remain in God’s garden and maintain and hold dear
All of the pleasures and wonders held here.
Life’s not a sprint; it’s a marathon.
We must go from alpha to omega, not faint at epsilon.
I look for the strength in a man to carry on
Because I want it long.
Whether winter or summer, he must perennate
And be true to his word and not equivocate.
Only then is he fit to conjugate,
Because I want it long.
This blog contains simple, thought provoking and deeply reflective poetry written by American poet, Doris Trueheart. Here is a large expanse of her poems covering a myriad of topics reflecting her heart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts
-
He was a married man, Quite upset That his wife showed her pastor More respect Than what she showed him. So he proposed that pastors ...
-
Genesis 2: 16-17 says, "And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: But of ...
-
Maga, a word of evil meanings, From white supremacy sought to schemes unseen. A dream for some, a con for others, A symbol worn by sister...
-
Limiting space - A belt on an ever expanding waist. She put on a garment so her life would be changed. Organs in their place: the course ...
-
Commonplace in politics are whispers and lies, A pattern emerges, where truth often dies. Deceitful tongues, and cunning minds, Weave web...
No comments:
Post a Comment