She was a plain woman.

She asked not for much.

A small fire in the hearth –

A warm cup of tea in her hands –

A window from which to watch the rain.

 

All she needed

Was a man

Who took her hand in prayer,

Took her head upon his shoulder,

And wrapped her soul in gentle care.

 

She asked only

For deep conversation,

Laughter-infused days,

And Scripture-laced vision.

 

She prayed for an old-fashioned man

Who understood her values,

Who wanted to build a life together,

Who didn’t need to be rich,

But who crafted a legacy with each day.

 

She longed for a kind man

Who understood her soul,

Who was patient with her faults,

And who inspired her to grow.

 

She knew such a man was rare –

His value high in a cheap society

Where surface-level men

Came a dime a dozen.

 

But she wanted to believe

He still existed.

Maybe in a place where

He was wondering if

A woman like her existed.

 

Maybe there would come a day

When they’d stop wondering

Because they would stumble

Across each other in an ordinary way.

 

She a plain woman.

He a plain man.

The two finding life together

So much more satisfying than life alone.

 

Was this too much to ask?

If so, she wouldn’t apologize.

For it was all that mattered to her,

And she believed it was worth waiting for.

 

Picture gleaned from Pinterest.