LOVE MY EYES SHALL ALWAYS SEE

by Anton Wills-Eve


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/eyes/”>Eyes</a>&gt;

                                                                  Look only at me , I wish no more

LOVE MY EYES I SHALL ALWAYS SEE

As I grew up I always knew

that everything I wanted in the girl I loved would have to be

exactly what I imagined I would see

in the eyes

of my wife. From early, wondering years of innocence,

yes even then

when I was only ten,

for my life-long lover to mean to me

and I to she

everything I desired, I knew I could only love a girl

who had at least one following quality.

For a start I was certain I could not live

with someone whose eyes never laughed

and, being vain, especially laughed at me

I mean of course in the sense that she

should share my sense of humour and fun

so that everything we enjoyed

we might enjoy as one;

I had only a tiny space for shared virtues,

in my world there could never be more than two

at once. Well not for a second lover anyway

because of my ideal lover’s second requisite quality.

She had to be somebody, and this I think I knew

beyond doubt when only fifteen,

to whom I would want to be

always faithful

and she always true to me;

I wanted someone I could place upon a pedestal

and to whom my wedding vows of love

would be the sincerest feelings I had ever felt,

promises that, were I to break them,

I might as well have taken a cleaver to my heart

almost smote it in twain with all the strength I had.

The third adjunct to her humanity

would have had to be

the depth of her love for me;

how selfish can a man become

when all he can see

throughout his life

is being worshipped and adored by his wife?

but I also had a safety valve for this emotion,

this common fault in the object of my devotion,

it was this; if ever I let her see me trip or fall

and for a few moments gaze upon another girl.

Then should the wife that I had chosen

out of despair, sadness or for whatever reason,

take her revenge by similarly deceiving me

I would totally and unconditionally forgive her,

providing she never asked me

to confront the object of her brief and physical desire;

I would absolve her

never query question ask or threaten her

Just forgive

I could live

with such a normal human thing.

I could forgive

but only if I realised I too had been capable

of setting her aside for the same reason,

the same very short season,

and one that I knew would never last

indeed that I would have to know had already passed;

her fourth quality? I am surprised you have not wondered

well you have not have you?

why I have not included the beauty

of her looks, her personality, or her physical attributes;

you know they would mean nothing to me.

I firmly believed this from my late teen years

as so many girls of beauty,

normality, shyness or vivacity

had all seemed so alike to me;

the other thing I would have to see in her

would be

a deep and gentle love for her fellow men;

she would have to come to me

unburdened with any type of prejudice

arising out of unreasonable hatred

or dislike of others.

I would place that quality

above any fair features

in her face or figure;

I could only hold her really close

and really love her

if I knew

that she too

loved all humanity

as much as I also do;

so did I ever find her,

this paragon?

Or was she just a fairy dream?

oh I found her once, then twice, then thrice

and am settled now with my fourth wife;

but every time the severance I had to undergo

was due to the ending of her human life,

and each widowing hurt me unbearably;

but did they all have those qualities

I so innocently was certain

I could not live without?

yes of course

they each predominantly had one.

My first, brief, Italian love

loved me so much

she would have given me up

rather than fail in her duty

to help her suffering family;

indeed of the four Lucia

was the closest to a saint in her love of others;

my second, my deepest love, was in Vietnam

Anh gave her life to nursing the destitute

and, in her way,

gave me the strongest reason, daily, to pray.

She and my baby daughter

were killed, before my eyes,

in a war,

that tore

the very heart out of me;

of all my loves it was she

who selflessly

devoted every second of her life to me;

she left me the softest smile I ever knew;

my third wife died suddenly of a cardiac disease,

ours was the briefest, oddest joining of two people.

She was the cause of total forgiveness between

two normal, morally fragile human beings;

her parting present in atonement,

one for one,

was my eldest son;

Lucia ‘s gift was twin daughters and they are still,

and will always be

a part of me,

though living many lands away;

Anh offers herself to me every day

 as I see her and Gemma, our lovely little baby girl.

And finally my fourth,

my longest,

my most enduring love

is still the one

that daily cheers

me, shares our laughter

and loves

how much she loves loving me;

her lasting present is my youngest son,

the greatest gift

of any happy union with anyone.

AWE

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