My Love For Her

My love for her is great, larger than anything I do know.
They say the universe is large, stretching on for billions
     and billions of light years in all directions, but compared
     to my love for her, it is like a small, still pool left
     upon the coast after the receding of the tide.
The oceans and seas are large and vast as is my love for her, but
     unlike the oceans and seas, my love for her does not ebb at
     any point in time, instead continuing to grow as I spend
     more time with her.

My love for her is strong, stouter than anything I do know.
Steel is said to be quite strong --strong enough to be used
     in the construction of great structures--as is my love for
     her, but unlike steel, my love for her doesn't erode over
     time and shall not falter and fail in the end.
     The diamond is said to be the strongest substance known to man,
     able to cut or scratch any other substance; my love for her
     may not be able to do things like scratch or cut other
     things, but like diamonds, my love for her is very
     precious and will last throughout all eternity, unaffected
     by time, although unlike a diamond my love for her can not
     be affected by great pressure, forced to change to suite
     the urgings of the pressure where ever it may come from.

My love for her while great and strong is also soft and tender,
     quite passionate and sincere.
There's not many things relevant or lucid to compare this to,
     but I can elaborate on this by giving prime examples of my
     passion and tenderness.
To her I've given my heart and soul, everything that makes me
     me; she's got me completely wrapped around her finger,
     and I'd do anything for her should she ask, and even should
     she not, even die for her, for she deserves no less from me.
She's all I think about all the time, unable to concentrate on
     anything else no matter its importance and unable to sleep
     some nights for she's constantly on my mind; I stay up to
     all hours of the night just thinking of her and writing
     her poetry as am I now.
When we're together --or apart for that matter, just any time
I'm not doing so, I long to hold her in my arms, feel her
     warmth radiating against me, have her hair brush against my
     face as she turns to look into my eyes, feel her silky
     smooth skin against mine as I hold her hand or as she
     presses her cheek against my neck, to give and show her the
     love she deserves and which befits her status as a Lady.

My love for her is many things, and to continue on I could not do
     because I could not express as completely and fully to you
     how much I do love her as I would like --this poem does not
     begin to express to you how much I do love her.

06-24-99


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