To My Wife

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I asked as my stomach started to flip flop and a warm feeling surged all through me.

“I wrote the book,” came her reply. And I believed her.

It seems a long time since those delicate and delicious kisses at the top of the stair and out back in your garden of color. The flowers all shining so brightly as to reflect the radiance of your face and my heart as I beheld it in your beaming blue eyes.

Things were so simple, so carefree. You captured my heart, you adored me. It was what love in spring was meant to be.

We joked and smiled secretly on the patio while dear friends talked casually inside. Wherever we went, it was always like that, this rush of love setting us apart from the rest of the world.

That spirit still hovers over us, but oh so cautiously. Would that we could cast off our worn out uniforms and clasp each other in a naked embrace.

And we shall, for our vows are as relentless as the call of the One Who fashioned us. We may be hurting and bleeding when we meet anew. But together we shall learn to love, through love.

My love is forgiving, for giving to you.