Can I Keep Her?
If I do enough, am good enough, can I keep her?
If I always remember to make our bed,
If I tell her every day that I love her,
If I do her chores when she's tired even if I am too,
If I remember all the anniversaries and laughter and tears,
And give her cards and flowers so she knows I'd never forget,
Can I keep her?
She is the gentle moon's eye that makes nighttime a lover.
She is this wondrous, beautiful, laughing, crying creature,
Who throws her arms around me when she's sad
Because she knows I'll hold her,
And when she's happy, because she knows I'll celebrate her joys.
She is a miracle.
Can I keep her?
If I offer her everything I have to give,
If I open my heart and soul and history to her,
And hold nothing back, let her dance with my spirit in her hand,
Can I keep her?
If I listen carefully when she talks, and care about what she says,
Build her bookshelves and plant tulips,
Welcome her into my heart and home with every fiber of my being,
Can I keep her?
If I share her dreams and her nightmares,
Work beside her to bring light to a Mississippi forest,
Teach with her, learn with her,
Give her full partnership in all that I am . . .
Can I keep her?
I ask, now, at thirty,
And will ask again at sixty-five,
And again at ninety,
And at a hundred-and-two:
Michelle, my love, my light, my lifetime,
Can I keep you?
10:06 a.m., Monday, May 1, 2000
Return to the Library.
Return to the Front Door.
E-mail me at Weavre@graffiti.net