When poetry arrived, in search of me;
that flowing river, beneath boughs of thought.
I saw the source of those boughs were a tree
and without that tree … I’d have come to naught.
The strength of that tree, I’ve come to admire,
as she shades the stream where notions disperse.
She bends with the breeze of thoughts that inspire
immersed in the depths of that river of verse.
The tree allows me to cling to her skirts,
as she gently guides my wavering soul.
She holds me afloat when the river diverts;
I thank you my friend; your words I extol.
So in praise to her, whose love is impartial,
I bless the tree, I love Marie Marshall.
Adding your comment:
Best of luck.
is better than none. By the way aren't you getting married?
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