A Proposed Picnic

Watchman Wayne perspired as he strolled with Violet along the coast, a lump building in his throat. 

They were to have a picnic of rolls, salted meat and dried peaches.

“Violet?” 

She giggled and smiled. “Yes, Wayne?”

Wayne pulled a parchment from his jacket. 

His hands trembled and his arms shook..

Looking deeply in Violet’s eyes, he did his best to read from his peripheral vision. 

Stammering he managed to say,

Violet,

You are gorgeous, and sweet,

Lovely and neat.

Look around you,

The sea where I found you.

Stones are too cold, 

Tasteless and old,

Jewels be sparing,

I ask you Violet,

Will my hand 

you be wearing?

Violet gasped.

“Wayne! Are you asking to marry me?”

Watchman Wayne got on a knee.

“Violet,”

“Will you marry me?”

Violet laughed a joyful laugh.

“Of course my dearest Wayne.”

Author: The Storyteller

Don't count the lions. It will make you afraid and slow you down.