April #19

I get a little afraid

of saying too much,

holding too close,

loving too dear. 

You are my precious,

and my one,

and my only, 

but I fear that I will 

smother you in kisses

and hugs

and neediness.

I need you so much, you see.

Don't let me turn you off,

push you away

in my tormented tears

and hidden emotions.

Understand that I need a rock

as heavy and immovable

as your sleeping puppy,

as dependable and sturdy

as any ancient car

built when the building was worth it.

Be my rock,

my protection from the storm.

Just know

it may be a while

before I can trust you to be that steady

and in the meantime

you can help me 

just by being.

April #3

Looking back
at all these things I've done,
I flip pages
in photo albums
which I realize I am now thankful
for keeping.
I read old poems
that I wrote years before,
most of it
mediocre at best.
But still I must appreciate it,
its inherent value,
as a record of who
and what and where
I was in life.
Oh, how we change, how we are all
so mutable with time and love and life.

I have one prayer, and that is for you,
my constant, my rock.
Let you not change from me.