I listen to the wind chime,
writing down a new rhyme,
like I do all the time.
But don’t dis me, it’s not a crime.
I’m thinking of my best friend,
the one I’ll love until the end.
She’s to cherish and defend,
her love of me I depend.
I pen a poem every day;
I say the words I cannot say.
Sometime blue and sometimes gay,
I write a lot but not for pay.
We talk a lot every night;
we laugh a lot and never fight.
We kiss a lot and know it’s right.
I stare at her in the morning light.
I get up early, no time to waste,
I need my morning coffee taste.
No need to hurry, no need for haste,
she’ll wake soon and I’ll be graced.
The hour near, I make the climb.
I’ll slip back in bed just like a mime.
Her eyes will open and my day’s sublime.
Then we’ll listen to the wind chime.