Yours is the first face I see in the morning
The last face I see at night.
Yours is the first breath that touches my face
And the last I'll feel till we embrace.
Yours is the love that that fills my space.
It's a summer's breeze and a sunny place.
Yours are the lips I taste
Though you're far away, none else can replace.
You are the flowers of spring
As the snow melts away, and the joy they bring.
Dean, my sweet, you're the love in my heart.
In my every thought, you're a vital part.
Yours... is the song that I sing,
And it's melody proves my awakening.
Yours is the hand that I hold
And the last, my dear, as I grow old.
Nightowl (8>) Jan. 28, 2000