"If only I had asked her name."

"If only I had asked her name."

I keep telling myself, two days after I saw her. She was the prettiest sight lately, the most dove eyed beauty to pass my way in a

long time. She, graceful and stately, stood beside me the whole time, and I wish, keep wishing;

"If only I had asked her name."

Her eyes never danced at all, they were steady.When she looked at me, she would stare deep and not try to rush away. Her smile was

a wine brew, glaring in the light. She was such a beautiful woman,

"If only I had asked her name."

The Pastor asked us to join hands across the pew, and give thanks for all God's blessings.Our hands intertwined, she pressed gently

onto mine. My goodness, I felt a tingle, fire warming my veins!And now I am ruing,

"If only I had asked her name."

The rain was falling, I was last at the door.The wind was blowing, I had no sweater on. Yet each time I looked, at the placid joy

in her eyes, my body was revived, and it was cold no more.

"If only I had asked her name."

She was gentle, she was beautiful, she was most of those things men dream of . As they asked us to pray, I muttered,

"Father I receive a wife."

And now I am thinking, constantly deliberating, planning to become an usher so that I may see her again. Maybe I should try the

same seat, same service and hope she does so too. I need to find that woman, coz I think she'll be my wife.