Wednesday, April 8, 2015
I can’t imagine a day without her,
a day when I don’t think about her.
The sun would yet provide its shine,
of course, and there would still be wine,
but surely not as brightly
and purely not as lightly.
I can’t imagine a life without her,
through work, play, joy and strife without her.
She’s everything I need to know,
she’s everything I need, and so,
our love is written in concrete,
not always gay, nor honey sweet,
our quiet passion a poet’s dream,
mates for life, so it would seem.
All this and more I can say about her,
I can’t imagine a way without her.