Lucky

I found a present that my husband made me for our anniversary one year under our bed when I was looking for my Bible( I know.  But at least it's not under there anymore)

He made me a notebook with stories and poems he had written for me over the years, along with 101 reasons why he loved me.  It had been a long time since I read it.

I was stunned with the beauty of his writing.  I was stunned as well with his outpouring of love for me.

I asked him if I could share some of his writings.  He begrudgingly agreed. 

Here is one of the poems that was in the notebook:

You are my winter sunrise, my April shower, my slow lazy summer evening,
You are my gusty autumn red mapleleaf pinwheeling down the street
You are my frigid January beach, my laughter in the canyons,
You are my icicle at midday--the momentary diamond
You are my grey garden stone--ten thousand years and patient yet
You are my old iron oak tree, swaying in the rain, 
You are my young brook skipping over round river stones,
You are my winter sunrise, my falling star, my blue moonlight on an empty sea
You are my high forest meadow, loud with butterfly wings,
You are my muddy jungle track, dripping with fresh rain,
You are my everything.




How did I get so lucky?  What did I do to deserve this?




I  think it goes without saying what I am thankful for today.