my poems they may not be much
but they come to me, every memory, feeling, every touch
my heart on my sleeve
trembling  when you must leave

i come up with these clever rhymes
at the most inopportune times
the best whispered to the wind
for things i will never find

often no paper is near
when the words ring clear
never is there a doubt, they fall together
no sooner a line finished then to mind another

these are the best, the truest
they ring with what is inside us
my dear who i would forever have near
romance and love, new things and fear

i may not always be able
to write them down, on the run, or sitting at a table
but always of you
this last month or two

especially the theme
of these profound and boisterous thyme schemes
your my inspiration, my love
and line to paper or not i thank everyday he above

for creating such a unique creature
beautiful and elegant, my god i love her