"Awry, awry!" Crooked finger near touched mirror.
"So be wrinkles of men." Tess giggled, wrapped in towel, stepped out shower.
"Me thinks twixt wifely towel pleats deep tucked platitudes dwell," Ted spoke to her mirror image.
"Thou be one PBS special away from being crowned, Ted." Tess cast green glint of eye.
"I be Royal Ted to thee lassy." In the mirror stroke of safety razor cut thru sudsy snow, from cheek to jaw laid path low.
Thus Tess coiled and popped that tad damp towel.
"Yeeeowee!" Ted blew lather cross mirror.
"Ah, more like town crier than royalty." Tess recast towel round her, plucked nother from rack, turban tucked it round moppy wet hair. "Best get a move on whimper boy or risk miss of kickoff, where you can put that cat yowling to good use." She chuckled.
At the ticket booth, Tess and Ted heard booming rah of that opening kickoff, followed by throat ripping screams of hometown fans, "Get him! Get him!"
Moments later Ted cast weary eye to scoreboard, "Visitors 6 Home 0."
"At least we got seats," Tess kidded, "right next to the band thanks to Mr. Smooth Shaver. Just pray we retain our hearing."
"Just pray, no matter who wins, no one gets hurt." Ted let sigh.
"You ought to know, gimpy boy." Tess hugged his arm.
"Twenty years later I'm still gimp along Ted. Ironically same date of injury anniversary, against the same team. Ruined my college and pro-career."
"Ted, you weighed a hundred and forty-five pounds and were maybe a tad quicker than a snail stuck in molasses." Tess giggled. "The only future career in football you had was ticket taker or peanut bag flinger."
"Ah, alas and forsooth, there be the rub. I should be king save for gale of windy wench." Ted punctuated lament with back of wrist to forehead.
"Wench!" Tess punch punctuated the arm she hugged.
"Queen, oh precious Queen of me heart, pardon prior miscast dart," too late pled the tad snail brained Ted.
Tess slid arm from Ted's, sat silently in football stand. The opening kickoff of pouting began.
Quoth the Ted, under breath said, "Oft lips sailed unto atoll shadows, wreck upon reefs fatal shallows."
Screaming cheers erased atoll shadows. Foe fumble propelled Tess and Ted to feet and into each others arms. Home town defensive lineman scooped up the ball, lumbered, stumbled toward the end zone. Amid mid scream of her own Tess near shook Ted's arm out of joint. Ted gladly sacrificed that arm for reprieve of wifely pout. Quoth the Ted, "Sometimes you gotta ebb, before you can flow."
And later at home that very night, Ted breathed lip to lip, "My Queen's lips be the kiss of key lime tart."
"Nostalgia to be, this sweet tart of time." Tess snuggled closer.
Ted hugged Tess tight. "Wouldest love we know, without life of ebb and flow?"
"Or the desert blossom as the rose." Tess sighed.
"You always gotta have the last word, don't cha, Tess." Ted lips kissed her neck.
"Yeah." Tess giggled.
Blessing or perdition... the lips... over 125 verses in the Bible...
Ecclesiastes 3:1 KJV, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."
Beautiful progression of scriptures:THE ROSE: Isaiah 35:1&8 with John 14:6 & 3:16 KJV
(Parting thought: Would Ted trade lack of limp and football career for his Tess? So should we not trade the love of Jesus, not even for the gain of the whole world... Mark 8:36)
