That's where I met my wife. This poem is for her.
From the calendar, it appears
(and I don't suppose it lies)
that it's been - unbelievably - 35 years
since I first laid eyes
on yours.
The years flash by
but love endures
not like a hard unchanging stone
more like a vine that's groped and grown
through cold and hot and dry and wet.
My darling, oh my dear,
my heart's not over you yet.
1 comment:
Wow, such a beautiful poem. Congrats to both of you, John and Marsha. :)
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