Happiness has been your gift to me
All these years of melody and pain,
Pleasure, hardship, wanton rhapsody,
Pure delight and hard, wind-driven rain.
Years do not add up to love and glory:
All things rest on non-things far more true.
No note is so sustained throughout our story;
Nothing but your love, and mine for you.
In our lives must always be confusion:
Very little lost in Time is clear.
Even so, the whirlwind’s an illusion
Regarding the few things we hold most dear.
So you have chosen me, and in that choice
Alone I find my refuge and my voice.
Reality is made by our own will:
You made my world and hold me in it still.

About the Author:
Nicholas Gordon

 

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