WEP - The First Time

 

Photo by Katie Harp on Unsplash

THE FIRST TIME

 

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

my heart began to race

time stood still

the world withdrew

I saw only you.

 

The First Time

I instantly understood

you'd slay the dragon

release all fears

you were the answer to all my prayers.

 

The First Time

your kiss

shattered all doubt

ignited desires

passionate fires.

 

The First Time

your touch destroyed my defenses

heightened my senses

ignited a blaze

I want replayed.

 

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

I immediately knew

you'd be my love most true

your devotion was mine

throughout all time.

***

Yolanda Renée © 2022

Nothing can surpass the lyrics of the song or Roberta Flack's version. 

 This poem was based on a blind date that turned to love at first sight.

Tagline: Love defined.

If you want more. Here's an excerpt from a WIP.

Her Mona Lisa Smile

 

Zane wandered through the Eden Gallery, unaware of the magnificent art surrounding him. Instead, his mind was on his career. He'd built a reputation in New York as a heart surgeon. Yet he was ready to throw it away for a quieter, less stressful life.

"How can you even consider leaving?" Emma said quietly.

Zane shrugged. "I'm thirty-five going on seventy because my days are filled with constant life and death situations, not art." Zane was about to chug his third glass of champagne when he spotted her. He stopped cold and just stared.

It can't be. She's…No. It's not possible. 

And yet it couldn't be anyone else. The same reddish-golden hair. Deep green eyes and a smile that would melt the coldest heart, light the darkest room, and cause his heart to beat like a drum. His body had the same reaction gazing at a painting of her as it had when they'd met in person.

He moved closer. On the exhibit label was the name of the artist Troy Handleson, the name of the painting, Sunrise in Paradise, and another title in parentheses, Her Mona Lisa Smile. Zane chuckled. It was clear from the emphasis on the girl in the painting that the sunrise was not the feature.

Zane's mind traveled back ten years earlier to a homecoming party at Penn State. The party was in full swing when he saw her enter the room. She had a vibrancy that surpassed the celebration of the thousands of screaming fans when Penn State won their game that day. The girl had an alluring smile, bright, sparkling eyes, and long luxurious locks that fell in soft curls over an exquisite body. He knew instantly that she was the one.

The girl he would marry. There was only one problem, she'd walked into the party on the arm of Harris, the star quarterback. Zane did his best to learn all he could, and a friend told him her name was Brandy. He thought it an odd name for a goddess, but names didn't matter.

God answered his prayer when she accepted his request for a dance. She beguiled him. He was speechless, caught in her spell, and lost in the emerald green and gold of her eyes. The warmth of her touch threatened to betray a very physical response. He wanted nothing more than to see her silken tresses cascading across the pillow as he...

Blocking the fantasy, he finally found his voice and learned her nickname was Randi, not Brandy.

"Cassandra is too formal. Randi is more down to earth," she told him.

Whatever name she went by. She was perfection. He discovered she was a high school senior visiting the campus but hadn't decided where she'd attend.

"Why should I choose Penn State? She asked.

"Because I'm here," he said.

She smiled. "Aren't you a senior?"

"I'm going for my master's. How'd you meet Harris?"

"We've known each other for years. He's such a hero, isn't he?" She said dreamily.

Zane wanted to converse. Randi wanted to dance. And as easy as that, he had a second chance. He pulled her close for the slow dance and did his best imitation of Fred Astaire. She responded beautifully, the crowd parted, and they were a solo hit. Of course, he didn't want the music to end. But when it did, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand.

"Maybe in a different time," she said and walked out of his life and into the arms of Harris. But she'd already stolen his heart.

*****

A slight breeze riffled the sheers covering the wall of windows that looked out over the Atlantic Ocean. A brilliant blue with rolling waves and a bright cerulean sky filled with feather-like clouds. The white caps dissolved into smaller and smaller breakers as they raced across the sand. Randi was so lost in thought that neither beauty, the sun's warmth, or the cries of seagulls could break through. She read, then re-read the email.

Randi:

A mutual friend, Troy Handleson, gave me your email address. Naturally, I wanted your phone number, but as a good friend should, Troy was protective of your personal information.

Please accept my deepest condolences. I know this is a bad time for you, but if you ever want to talk. I'm a good listener.

I'd like to know you better, and the funny thing is…we've met before. A story I promise to share on our first date.

In the email's signature, Zane Winters gave his New York address and phone number. Randi, now simmering with anger, called Troy. "Who the hell is Zane Winters?" She shouted as soon as he answered.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I intended to text, but I had so much fun at my opening that I completely forgot. Zane bought that sweet portrait of you. The one I titled  Her Mona Lisa Smile," Troy explained.

"Portrait? You didn't…. I never gave my permission."

"But you did. I asked you what I should do with the portrait I'd done of you for HIM, whose name shall never be mentioned. And you said, whatever I wanted."

HE was Randi's ex, and all her friends knew better than to mention his name.

"No. I said, destroy it. You claimed it was valuable. And I said whatever!"

Troy laughed. "So, I took a little license with your response. Can you blame me? My best work and the highlight of the show. I couldn't destroy perfection. Damn, girl, I got thousands more than I was even asking. And because of my artistry, the man fell in love with your Mona Lisa Smile. Hell, his girlfriend even hired me…."

"Why would anyone pay that much? God, Troy. What he bought was my email address. Holy Hell, what have you done? Sold me out to some creep? After Damon! How could you?"

***

979 Words

Yolanda Renée © 2022

Tagline: Chance meetings.