she ask me not to do not compare me to a rose their value is over blown there bought every week for to many reasons there nothing special you see you say I am unique and rose are just ordinary it's the time and thought not by the price it was bought how well do you know me it's carnations you love to see you favorite is cream and cinnamon one or twenty makes on difference you see it's the thought that counts so I by them out of the blue to show my love for you not because society says its time
There is always some madness in love, but there is always also some reason in madness.”—Friedrich Nietzsche
For my Beloved Wife
it may not be a perfect love yet it is genuine of all the treasures from above no gift is so divine as knowing that your heart is mine though all the world were dead you are my perfect valentine none else can take your stead
a guarantee of perfect days eludes the strongest will yet do i promise you always that though the moon stand still when day is...
If God is love What are we but the understudies Like amateur craftsman of something divine Does practice make perfect?
What is this antithesis of our humanity Are we second nature fakes or best attempts When all we are is graded on a curve of forgiveness When mercy is the only way to sustain The efforts of our fluctuating commitment
Love potency of first words in the infancy Our lessons in a disenchanted fantasy More than romance but something true Evermore distinguished as we age What is love but a lifetimes lesson...
Where do I begin to recapture the essence of our love here and now Yet in the endless quest to draw on the enchantment of our first romance To think back and look on the ways of love phrased in the how As we act to articulate our faithfulness in the platitudes of a lifetimes dance
You've got a way of enthralling me with each new day When you rise to shine as though competing with the sun You are the center of my orbit in every way Since the first moment that I met you, I knew you were the one