Doesn't make me happy.
Simple happiness if for children.
With childish wants and childish needs.
And childish concepts.
Doesn't bring me calmness.
Candles can bring calm. Oils and incense.
A taste of warm milk, they say.
A little breeze across a wide field. Is calming.
But not my wife.
They have pills for this.
A nap, perhaps.
Exercise. Of course.
Adrenaline. Testosterone. Esprit.
But my wife.
A profound convergence of the purest joy.
My most peaceful moments.
A source of infinite verve.
Beeyou - tee.
These two sloppy
When tasked to represent her.
When cast in her direction.
Don't show the right level of respect.
And so I discard them.
I gaze into nothing and imagine.
I note how colors brighten in her presence.
and the flowers bow in her wake.
I conclude past souls must keep vigil over her.
I despair until her return.
Pretend I don't hear, as to again hear the music
that is her voice.
Instead, I do these things.
To honor her.