I won’t write of my paperback-hero come true.
I will write of truth…I will write of you.
I will write of your eyes, and your blind sense of sight,
when you tell me I’m lovely when my acne’s a fright.
I will write of your smile and your forgiving laugh,
when I’m being a clown with a joke for the daft.
I will write of your touch and the comfort it brings,
when I’m driving your car,
when the typing just stings.
I will write of your honesty coated with grins,
when my dress is too short and my legs are untrimmed.
I will write of your patience and how it amazes,
the stubborn old me still covered with excuses.
I will write of your love and how its taken so long,
for that silly old Frisbee to help us along.
I will write of the tears, of the laughter, the fights,
that you choose to forfeit when I can’t see the light.
I will write of our need to figure out a song,
‘cuz Oasis ain’t cheesy and Kreviazuk’s long gone…
I will write of you, of us tonight…
of the many months,, and years and lifetime’s in sight.