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©02 Levite

(Christian Adult Science Fiction/Fantasy Adventure)

        It had started out small. Almost unnoticed. Maybe a joke.
        Poetry posted in the common message access area on the FleetNet.
        The first message had been posted several weeks ago...

                A song of the joy of my love...
                        most beautiful star in the heavens
                A loveliness that cannot be spoken ,
                        it must be sung in the eternal night...
        And so it went, some longer, some shorter. All brimming with love.
        On FleetNet's open area, everybody from halfway across the galaxy posted everything from hateful spiels demanding a declaration of war against so and so, to recipes for Tracin eggs. Most of it went unread, if a message had your name on it, you got a notice where to look for it when you logged in. You could wade through the thousands of other messages posted every cycle one by one, by topic, or by person doing the posting. It was unusual that a common unflagged, anonymous posting even got noticed.
        Let alone become famous with an eager following hanging on every word.

        In about a week, people began looking for postings from 'The Groom' and then the answers from 'Shuliam'...

                His kisses paint my neck,
                        my body eagerly anticipates each one
                My love comes in my room,
                        my love comes into my heart.....
        A new verse appeared every few days. Debates raged on every port and colony in a dozen systems. Everybody was accused of being either The Groom or Shuliam. One popular theory was that they were the same person, but that died away as somebody deciphered the posting codes and found out they were from opposite ends of the net.
                A flower never bloomed so lovely,
                        your scent is finer than perfume.
        The poetry was spreading its love into the most unlikely places in the subtlest of ways.
        Even swarthy weapons control non-commissioned officers that would never admit to reading anything so sentimental were found to have at least looked over the latest line.
        "Yeah, So? It makes me think of Delvia." One commented getting ready to fight in a spaceport on a backwater planet.
        "I've seen Delvia. She don't look like no flower." His comrade said.
        "She did to me back on Freingard. A long time ago." The non-com smiled at the image in his memory.
        His friend nodded. He remembered his first love the same way.
                The guardsmen know my love comes to me in the night,
                        as the night.
                The sentinels know my love comes to me in the night,
                        as the night.
                My love comes to me,
                        and I await him.
        "That is a breach of protocol Captain." An Executive Officer said officially.
        "I like it." The Captain replied. "Is there any more this time?"
        "One more line sir." The communications officer cleared his throat. "I await him with open eyes, I await him as the night watch guards the city."
        "Thank you Ensign. You public-read well."
        "Thank you captain."
        "That is not an official communication and may be considered offensive by some."
        "Understood Exec. Are you filing an official complaint?"
        "No sir. Just pointing it out." The Exec went to his station. "Ensign."
        "Yes sir."
        "Let me know when you're going to read the answer." He nodded. "I like your reading too."
                Your loveliness takes my breath
                        your presence makes me weak.
                My words fall short of telling
                        the softness of your touch
                The beauty of your skin
                        the sound of your voice
                You are more beautiful than the nova of the sky
                        more wonderful than the miracle of life
                You are, to me,
                        my life, my love.
        The NetMaster was swamped with requests to identify the writers.
        Some claimed to be offering any price for the rights to collect the postings and publish them as a unit.
        Others wanted permission to perform the works on stage.
        A few wanted to marry one or the other of the writers if possible.
        A university offered advanced degrees to the writers if they would come and speak.
        The master refused all requests.
        And the mail continued to pour in.
        Commentary on the poems consumed vast areas of the message base. Some read deeply into the writings, others found secret codes that indicated an alien intelligence plotting a military invasion or mind control of the readers.
                My love is mighty among men,
                        he stands above all around.
                His least whisper commands legions,
                        all honor his every word.
                Fear he knows not, nothing holds terror for him,
                        he flies into the face of war, and returns with honor.
                When peace is at hand, he is first to proclaim it,
                        all find solace in his shadow, secure in his strength.
        Females of a score of species swooned with the dream of Shuliam's lover, The Groom. Wanted posters for anyone even remotely matching the description were seen stuck to walls here and there.
        Every officer in the fleet was held out for inspection by the eligible women.
        Many men tried to stand taller and speak with authority.
        Resulting in a lot of half concealed snickers and knowing smirks.
        One junior officer went so far as to start telling people he was The Groom, but when put to the test, he couldn't write a coherent sentence of more than five words.
        The search went on.
                All I require to live is your love.
                        To touch you is life.
                To love you is pleasure
                        To kiss you is food
                To see you is joy.

                Your caress gives me reason to breathe
                        Kisses give life
                Your tenderness in love shows me heaven
                        Your love in tenderness takes me there.

        A reward was offered for the woman that inspired those lines. Several known slave traders began trying to trace the postings back to their source.
        Others offered vast sums, ships, entire planets to The Groom, for her to be their wife.
        Some copycat poems were posted, some humorous, some not. But censorship rubbed the NetMaster wrong, when some explicit lines were written, he allowed it, but when vulgar and obscene versions were posted they were removed by the NetMaster in spite of his free expression feelings. There were limits after all.
        The real poetry didn't even slow down.
                When he joins with me we become one,
                        we share our life,
                                we become Love itself..
        Professors of language arts spewed volumes on the subject. Some called it classic free verse, others called it badly crafted, barely readable, popular swill.
        The debate in the halls of fine learning made no difference to those that read it and dreamed of a perfect romance.
        Most did not care what meter was used in the verse, the rhyming scheme was completely unimportant to them.
        The imagery gave their daydreams wings to reach the stars. The few lines newly posted every so often brought their mundane lives to the level of classic love stories.
                Nothing can defeat my love for you,
                        Armadas of warships fall before the fire of my love.
                My devotion to you is stronger than the flow of time,
                        my yearning for you is stronger than gravity.
                I will come to you,
                        Even though all the distance of space,
                                all the time of creation,
                                all the peoples of all the worlds,
                                        Stand between us.

                I await my love.
                My harvest of love is yours for the taking.
        The postings stopped.
        People waited, nearly breathlessly, waiting.
        The Groom, and Shuliam had evidently said their piece.
        Others tried to recreate it.
        Some even got pretty close.
        But the genuine article. Lines penned by pure love, were never reproduced with the same fire.
        The couple known simply as, the Lovers, were missed.

end Singing


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