My Valentine

for Debra

Shakespeare would compare thee,

Donne would wonder why,

Browning would behold thee,

Keats would glorify.

But poetry as you can see

Can only go so far,

No poem can contain your light,

No sun, no moon, no star.

And so I scribe these endless lines

In search of metaphor

To show instead of tell, my Love,

It’s you that I adore.

* * *

Royal Love

You treat Love

like a king.

You crown him

with your smile.

You rule him

with your kiss.

You make him wish

you were his queen.

You make Love

jealous.

* * *

Your Song

sings always in me

even when you are silent,

even when we are apart.

To me there is no sound

as soft as you,

no voice on earth

that gives my feet

such wings,

no whispered prayer

filled with so much promise.

Your voice is the pillow

on which I rest my heart,

the blanket with which

I warm my dreams,

the bed in which my soul

learns its nightly lesson

of everlasting love.