This poem is for my beautiful wife, Anita-Clare, the love of my life. How fortunate we were to find each other.
If my love were like an ocean,
It would come in but never retreat.
I would show you my constant devotion,
By laying it here, at your feet.
If my love were like a mountain,
It would be a peak I longed to climb,
It would bathe you like a fountain,
And stand the test of time.
If my love were like a river, long,
It would flow joyfully from its source,
It would be, like a melody or song,
Full of vigour, life and force.
If my love were like a giant oak,
It would spread its branches wide,
To shelter you and to invoke
A safe haven in which to reside.
If my love were like a garden,
You’d know it’s where you belong,
It would be your own sweet Arden,
Filled with music, laughter, song.
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