"I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands." - Psalm 143:5

Friday, February 12, 2010

Love Story

On February 16 I will be celebrating meeting my wife 30 years ago. It was a day that change my life and I am forever grateful to God. Below is one of the poems that I have written over the years…it is a sonnet to the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet…my wife, Christine.

Peace,
Jay

Love Sonnet for Onething-called-love

I could seek out a thousand blossoms,
inhaling none like the aroma of your love.

Countless sunrises could fill my horizon and
not brighten my day more than your smile.
The moon jealously guards her sky,
knowing your rising during the night
would outshine her glow.

The air tingles with excitement on touching
your cheek as you pass by.
Sound itself, hushes to take in the melody
of your voice.

Rainbows swirl with mere color while your
eyes captures them all.
Beauty is not a grand enough word to
fill the picture of you.

Such is your grace,
where flowers bathed by the sunrise,
given rest by moonlight, pale in your company.
Where dreams and elements seem less
than all you are.

I am a castaway on the shores of your heart.
No desire of rescue is found within me.
I find myself lost in your pleasant walkways
seeking more.

Jay Cookingham, September 18, 2002 ©
Dedicated to my wife Christine

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