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Wed 15 Sep, 2004 07:15 pm
For my wife, from Spontaneous Poems again. She loved it:
Weather or whether,
never interferes
with our fears,
except on days
the tumult rises,
in seemingly overwhelming
sizes.
We sit and think,
think and talk,
take a mental walk
down memory lane.
Then our thoughts become
a strange parade of welcome,
and 'yes'.
Doubly blessed,
we are.
Love is mainly just memories
everyone's got them a few.
So when I'm gone
I'll be glad to love you.
when the lady Diane and I have a difference, I usually say nothing, walk up behind her and kiss the back of her neck. She smiles. I love that.
oh my gawd Dys. That is sooooo luhvalee
men sharing secrets. ewwww lol.
At least we're not in a steam room with bongos, onyx.
Two words for this poem: Platonic Bliss!
Platonic Bliss...nice. I like that.
Your wife is a lucky woman, my friend!
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