In gratitude. . .

If I were but the wind in trees
or just a facet of all your beauty;
I would skim through my words,
a treasure, I hope to unearth,
counting the bliss of your every breath
through every moment in which
each other we have searched. . .
I am, for you are
and in your eyes I see,
all the beauty of the woman
that I desire to be.

Through the glistening shadows
trapped underneath light's own fall,
is a memory, a memoir that you
fill for me and when the clouds lift
and the sun clears the sky
all that holds me back is pull
of your gravity.

I am but a mould of your love, hear
a heartbeat completing as you persevere,
to only live with what we come together to share
I have succeeded to a fourth year.