if i had a garden

i wouldn't give you the flowers

i'd give you the seeds

so you could have a garden too

Stop making me write poems.

I mean it

Pretty please

I’ve written so many already I’m down here on my knees.

Stop making me write poems.

I hate them

I really do

Yet whenever you’re around all these words spill out for you.

Stop making me write poems.

Act rudely

Be a jerk

I’m wasting all my hours trying to make this rhyme scheme work.

Stop making me write poems.

You won’t read

Or ever see

My feelings look so lame in print the only one who’ll see is me.

Stop making me write poems.

It’s a waste

Since anyway

You already know I love you and I’ve got nothing left to say.

Your love is the breath in my lungs

in

out.

in.

You are the beat of my heart

The rhythm of my soul

The melody

to

my

song.

You shine like the sun

All the stars in the universe

Shine in your eyes

like

a

galaxy.

There is no life without you

No heartbeat

No harmony

no

drawn

breath.

My love is all-consuming

Devouring my very soul

Until there is nothing left

nothing

but

you.

For anyone confused by the concept of love this valentine’s day

I suggest a Grecian approach,

they broke it down,

6 words.

Most people I have meet start the relationship at Eros,

Even the Greeks thought this was a frighting way to start,

I prefer Philia first, I need to know you, to know your soul,

To have walked in the woods with you a while,

Only then will Eros show up in me,

Sorry, if that’s not how you do things.

To me;

Eros is an extension of Ludus

Agape is a must, or otherwise we just won’t work.

Philautia, the healthy version only please;

with enough for me to borrow, some days I lack this.

However, when pragma inevitably shows up, please stay with me,

I’m sure we can bring Ludus back again.

And just incase you need any help on what these words mean

look it up;

https://www.yesmagazine.org/health-happiness/2013/12/28/the-ancient-greeks-6-words-for-love-and-why-knowing-them-can-change-your-life/

As I began to start my day,

I gazed on a fantastic sight.

Moving as ever a sunrise

or even stars displayed at night.

My chosen, my sweet, my husband,

was sleeping still, lying enwrapped.

His face was gentle and placid,

his shoulders bare, arms overlapped.

A well of loving emotion

was struck in me as I paused then.

So quietly, I continued,

moving on without waking him.