A real man..!

As father of two daughters I've wondered at the perfect type of man; somebody who meets all the requirements, you know what I mean?
And then one day I saw him; perfect I thought, here's the type of fellow who'd fit into my living room and not get thrown out like I want to do with all the others I see lounging around:                 
"Perfect!" I said, "Purrrrfect" I grinned.
He was a flawless hunk, huge and muscular, handsome and confident as he looked around. I stared envious at him, bulging muscles and taut abdomen.    
"How strong he is!" I thought happily.
But a voice spoke gently into my ear: "Bob, the strength of a man isn't seen in the width of his shoulders. Its seen in the width of his arms that circle you!"
And then I heard the fellow speak, in tones that could have made a woman shiver, with authority that would make any man respect him as a leader, but again that voice whispered: "The strength of a man isn't in the deep tone of his voice. It's in the gentle words he whispers."
There were friends around him, who loved him and enjoyed his company, how envious I was of him, till I heard again: "The strength of a man isn't in how many buddies he has. Its how good a buddy he is with his kids."
I knew from car he drove he'd risen high and was a leader among men, but again that whisper saying: "The strength of a man isn't in how respected he is at work. Its in how respected he is at home!"
I knew that men would be afraid to grapple with him, that he had strength to flatten a thief and throw far a kidnapper, but again that hushed tone: "The strength of a man isn't in how hard he hits. Its in how tender he touches."
He looked striking and imposing, his top buttons purposely undone showing off hairy chest, "Ah what a fellow!" I murmured. But the voice said to me, "The strength of a man isn't in the hair on his chest. Its in his Heart…that lies within his chest."
He walked into my club, into the gym and picked up weights and dumbbells as if they were made of plastic, I marveled at his strength till this time an angry roar filled my ears: "The strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift. It is in the burdens he can carry!"
Women crowded round him and I knew from their glances that many had fallen for this fantasy, I stared jealous that anyone could have so much love, and love so many, but again that voice reminded me, "The strength of a man isn't how many women he's loved. Its in how true he can be to one woman..!"
And then I heard the voice whisper sadly, "You judge men and women by their appearance Bob, when oh when will you be able to look within instead of being fooled by what you see outside?
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A real man..!

As father of two daughters Ive wondered at the perfect type of man; somebody who meets all the requirements, you know what I mean? And then one day I saw him; perfect I thought, heres the type of fellow whod fit into my living room and not get thrown out like I want to do with all the others I see lounging around: Perfect! I said, Purrrrfect I grinned. He was a flawless hunk, huge and muscular, handsome and confident as he looked around. I stared envious at him, bulging muscles and taut abdomen. How strong he is! I thought happily. But a voice spoke gently into my ear: Bob, the strength of a man isnt seen in the width of his shoulders. Its seen in the width of his arms that circle you! And then I heard the fellow speak, in tones that could have made a woman shiver, with authority that would make any man respect him as a leader, but again that voice whispered: The strength of a man isnt in the deep tone of his voice. Its in the gentle words he whispers. There were friends around him, who loved him and enjoyed his company, how envious I was of him, till I heard again: The strength of a man isnt in how many buddies he has. Its how good a buddy he is with his kids. I knew from car he drove hed risen high and was a leader among men, but again that whisper saying: The strength of a man isnt in how respected he is at work. Its in how respected he is at home! I knew that men would be afraid to grapple with him, that he had strength to flatten a thief and throw far a kidnapper, but again that hushed tone: The strength of a man isnt in how hard he hits. Its in how tender he touches. He looked striking and imposing, his top buttons purposely undone showing off hairy chest, Ah what a fellow! I murmured. But the voice said to me, The strength of a man isnt in the hair on his chest. Its in his Heartthat lies within his chest. He walked into my club, into the gym and picked up weights and dumbbells as if they were made of plastic, I marveled at his strength till this time an angry roar filled my ears: The strength of a man isnt in the weight he can lift. It is in the burdens he can carry! Women crowded round him and I knew from their glances that many had fallen for this fantasy, I stared jealous that anyone could have so much love, and love so many, but again that voice reminded me, The strength of a man isnt how many women hes loved. Its in how true he can be to one woman..! And then I heard the voice whisper sadly, You judge men and women by their appearance Bob, when oh when will you be able to look within instead of being fooled by what you see outside? [email protected]