A birthday poem for my husband:
Sultry summer night,
romance weary
twice I encounter him
this detective looking man
Barely there dark brown hair
Liquefying blue eyes,
The detective man asks,
“are you following me”
I somehow suspect
I would follow him anywhere
And then again
as I twirl with another
once more he addresses me
“when’s my turn”
sensing my destiny
I reply at once
dismissing the other
“whenever you want”
eternal words of consequence
as it would seem
twenty odd years,
and some babies later
oh how I adore
this detective man
detective though he’s not
The babies are grown
gray pervades dark brown
but oh those liquid eyes
yet glisten with love
Devotedly, infinitely, I know
I will follow him everywhere
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