Poetry

My darling wife, the seasons come and go
but the summer-sun is in your laughter,
spring is in your eyes
and sometimes innocent like a child
you want to look past the times of life
as if there is something precious in every day.
 
There is intensity when I hold you in my arms
when we stand still for a mere moment.
It’s as if my whole life long I had to wait for you
and you do make me great
even in my inabilities.