A Man’s Cunning, A Woman’s Plan

Wedding

By Delbert H. Rhodes

She walks in his direction, as he sanitizes his hands. Looking at her, he recalls earlier years when he first saw her; she remains as stunningly beautiful as she ever was. Framing her face, coal-black hair with curls reach down to brush her shoulders, alabaster skin boasting sunshine illuminates and eyes of black satin captivate him. Usually, he prefers the skin of darkly creamed to medium tones, however, subjectively, white is the color for her. While training, she works hard as she expertly engineers her routines and her bodylines, long, sleek, athletic, but sweetly feminine, speak to the benefits, the beauties of physical fitness.

This lady is the picture of perfect, both in the commercial sense and the personal and more private sense. Physically, she meets the spec sheet for goddess and wife, he has no idea how her mind works, and regarding his choices of women thinking is critical; after all, if she poorly reasons then conversations are little more than gossip. No thanks to that type. That he could feel such passions for her is romantic, for neither of them has ever spoken to the other.

Knowing he is here yet without eye contact, she almost brushes him as she passes by. Selecting a bottle of cleanser, slowly, she rounds to the opposite side of the cleaning station. Innocuously rotating her palms to wipe them, she exposes her right hand ring finger; diamonds dazzle his eyes. Is she married or is she playing? Nonetheless, if she intends it he would soon know. Remaining within arm’s reach she delicately diverts her eyes from him. From behind a complementary stare, quietly, he speaks, “You should never do that it is risky.”

Even the Jetson’s Rosie could not have appeared as busy while cleaning. Without glancing at him, she finally replies, “Never do ‘what?’” “Blindly stroll into the wanton passions of a man.” As she returns to her workout station, slightly, a smile resonating ‘okay, you made it to bat’ encourages him. With pinpoint accuracy, her paper towel finds the narrow mouth of the garbage can.

Watching her walk away, he realizes that she directed the entire scenario; it actually happened as she had scripted it, everything neatly conceived from approach to departure. In some ways, a man’s cunning derives from a woman’s plan; there are no better strategists of male, female behaviors than women…smiling, already he feels her arms about him, but his pursuit must be proper, and encouraging, but never arrogantly rude… she approaches, his eyes widen, “Beautiful, simply beautiful.”

Copyright © 2014 Delbert H. Rhodes

His Silent Tears: A Sign of Tenderness

An unconscious Pina Menichelli at the start of...

By Delbert H. Rhodes

 

Five years have passed since the accident and Vera remains comatose. The medical opinion of her doctors is that she would not regain consciousness. The doctors have done all they could, they can do no more; with two exceptions, all doctors suggest terminating life support. Ty loves his wife more than he loves anything else and refuses to give up; he believes that Vera will return to him.

Her loving husband never misses a day. Ty is a banker and quite busy but his wife is never second. Aiding Vera’s recovery, he always brings something to read to her. His favorite is a poetic piece that he wrote for his wife when they were dating.

Whenever reading the poem, the hurting man surrenders to his tears. Ty is never the crybaby type but any man loving his wife, or anyone, must show (at least) a tiny sign of tenderness. Besides, he too enjoys the poem, and it reminds him of the early days, the days when nothing separated Vera and him. They share a wonderful marriage; the couple has great children and even a happy dog. This sickness, this horror would not take away the man’s partner and sweetheart. Ty would never abandon his lovely wife.

Kissing Vera “hello,” the weary man relaxes by her bedside: he begins:

“What’s it Like?”

“Baby, what’s it like; feeling warm yet not to know, you lie there naked on a bed of snow? Roaring hot, the fever burns in your mind. Worry not; passion soars from time to time. Your heart pounds, like sunshine raindrops through the night, and crystal melts in the darkness of the light. As sweet flowers dance in the fibers of your hair, you would love to spread your petals, but you know you should not dare.

What’s it like; gathering tears of snow filled clouds and moonlit dew; a tireless sun at the dusk of daybreak awakens you, to arise ready alert alive greeting the day, taking charge of whom you are or walk away.

What’s it like; (when) the mind screams and the body aches, from all you missed; tearful eyes and lust-filled lips await the kiss. Hungry arms seduce the soul the spirit lives. To be saddened for joy grief-stricken for more of all there is.

Tell me, what’s it like, holding you close in candle lit smiles, caressing the night. To make a choice to choose for now, to know it’s right; (baby), do you know what it’s like?”

Sitting and staring at the words, Ty remains lost in his mind; he wants Vera back, and needs to know what else he might do. This moment: he must support his wife; and then from his heart, Vera’s distraught husband begs God for her return. He refuses to submit, to say goodbye.

Tired, Ty rests his head across his wife’s breasts; his silent tears seducing his sweetheart’s spirit, soon, Ty falls asleep…

Copyright © 1995-2012 Delbert H. Rhodes