He loves it when I read. He says it makes me look so beautiful.
Says it makes me seem so full of passion and life,
So filled with a special understanding that only a writer can have.
And when I write he says I have an understanding only a writer can have.
What is it about this man that makes him love to see me read?
And why is it I feel so loved just because he lays there and listens?
He listens with such attentiveness.
He listens with such curiosity, as though he can not wait to hear what happens.
And when he really enjoys it, he can’t wait to have me read it again.
When I ask him if he’s tired, he answers,
“I could never grow tired of hearing your voice speaking any words of this world.”
How warm and special that makes me feel,
And with the glow in his eyes and his contented expression,
I know that he is sincere.
He does not try to leave, nor would he dare.
He wants to hold me as I read and watch my face tell the story.
He says I glow even more when reading to children,
And that it makes him eager for us to have children to read to.
He longs to see their contented and happy faces,
So eager for what will happen,
And lighting up from the simple joy of knowing
“Mommy likes to read to us” and “Mommy makes it so fun.”
How wonderful he is to me.
What a heart he carries within.
And when I am so tired that I cannot hold the book,
Keep my eyes focused, or read when my voice is so dry,
He is more heavenly than I could have dreamed of.
This man knows my heart and says to me,
“There is no doubt you love to hear the words and stories you share.
Your love for making it fun and comforting for others is beautiful.
Let me hold the book as I hold you, and share with you with joy.”
Ah, my heart is love-stricken with a man who understands.
He takes me in his arms, my book within his hand,
And the words upon his comforting voice.
How delightful it sounds to hear the words come from his heart.
How comforting to hear his voice exhale the words.
I feel so safe and blessed by a loving God.
Thank You, Lord, for the love of reading and writing.
Literature and all of Your wonderful creations within Your writers
Are Your work of art and a part of my joy in living among it all.
Thank you, my love, for being a part of my soul.
I write this one for you and God.

10-8-1999 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: A man who loved to hear me read, and inspired me to know my purpose with others.