My Love

Lost in contemplation of your eyes,

A smile escapes, then followed by my sighs.

You lie with me and pools of liquid gleam,

I snuggle close and close my own to dream

 

Of love we’ve shared so many years like this,

Of passion, slowly followed by such bliss.

In dreams, you run to me and hold,

To warm a heart, once frozen so with cold.

 

Your trust in me fills all I am today

And makes the woman work at keeping all this way.

For none should take such precious love for granted,

It’s effort, work, combined with seeds we’ve planted.

 

If dreams turn other thoughts to mind,

Remember, in my life, you’ll always find

Arms wide to welcome all you are:

My lover, friend, my constant shining star.

How Can I Love Them More?

How can I love them more than I do?

How can I show them they are the world to me?

What more can I do than I already do

To allow my love to grow in them?

I could spend more time in pleasures with them

Instead of always bemoaning the housewife realities.

The chores I take upon as mother

Drown the time I could have as mum.

To share with them time spent in books and games and pleasures

To picnic on the floor and not to mind the mess

To laugh when they laugh and not to heed the rest.

To expect and to receive some time alone for me

And for them when they have need of it.

How can I love him more?

How can I show him that he means so much to me?

To be there with my arms open and not on my hips.

To speak softly more often than shrill.

To welcome his loving advances and to make some.

Not to count the cost as time lost,

In terms of work still needing done.

These are just some.

(6-1-02)

Frank Sleeps

My husband waits

Asleep in bed

His hand supports

His weary head.

His body cries its need of rest,

Still another need

Lies in his breast.

This need shall be aroused in me

When I slip beside him quietly.

I’ll take his head upon my breast

And though he has a need for rest

His ardour will become a flame

He will call his wife by my own name.

And when his passion is all spent

He’ll fall to sleep, be heaven-sent.

And this new rest

Will fell his head

Upon his pillow – soft yet firm.

And I will have had my need of him.

(6-1-02)