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About This Author
A changeling spirit,
constantly evolving,
revolving around an inner core,
spinning forth legend and lore,
stories and lives
as I come to grips
with who and what I am,
have been and may be.
I am a phoenix:
rising ever above and beyond!
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Stick Stick--for my Husband
A walking stick is made of a special sort of wood--
strong enough to hold up under pressure and
supple, with the right amount of give to be flexible when needed.
Wood worn smooth from clasped fingers,
from tromping miles and years together
along the paths we muddle through.
A walking stick pulled from along side
an Upper Peninsula roadway came to symbolize
what we are together.
Three years ago today we chose to stick together
through mud puddles and rainstorms,
through endless arrows and writing jags
for burned potato chips and
bringing each other the morning cups of coffee,
for the laughing times and the wistful moments,
for the pooffy puppy who hogs the bed,
for the "I don't snore!" he/she said.
For venison and 'very' pretty Christmas Trees,
for back-scratching hugs and silly giggles,
for storm watching and dishwasher shuffling,
for TV dates and drums
played late into the night
and Sunday breakfasts cooked just right.
May sound trite,
but I honestly didn't know I could love you more
than I did the day we became 'stuck' together.
But I do and I've learned
that each day I love you more.
We've grown as we knew we wood--
and I love us
yesterday, today and tomorrow.
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© Copyright 2011 Fyn-elf (fyndorian at Writing.Com).
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