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Dating Hell

A woman once said, a woman I know.


“If he’s not a 'hell yes!' then it must be 'hell no!'"



I laughed with great roar and I laughed with great mirth,


and I realized she yearns for the spark of sole worth.



What makes a man "yes" and not his dread, "no"?


Is he Greek chiseled stone baking status and dough?



Is it flint struck on steel near a soft tinder heart?


Is it rose shafted arrow with an oath ne’er to part?



Is it fairy tale wishes? Is it prayer destined true?


What ignites such a spark that unites souls of two?



I thought back to days most sacred and sweet,


where I met the one whom I had long longed to meet.



I came unprepared for my manifest dream,


after years spent in wonder and doubt, my esteem.



This tale I may tell, or tell not, come what may.


Alas, I am not the same man smit that day.



I was acting the man but, truth told, just a boy.


In God’s plan for my match, there was much to destroy.



The man made for you is a man none can see.


For you are the key for a man yet to be.



He too cannot see past this long courting rut.


For the bride made for him is a gem yet uncut.



A spark there shall be, but how shall you know?


I know not his name, yet I know he must grow.



How could he be all when he's not yet all whole?


He's yet to know jewel carved to fit his soul's hole.



So you seek a "hell yes!"? Seek a man yet to be.


Choose the man who dare conquer his hells all for thee.




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