I wrote a poem today, our 33rd anniversary. Not that I haven’t written poems nearly every day in the past year. . . Is it one of my best? No, not at all. . . I can write about other people’s heartache and my own, about stupidity and fun, about this meaning that, but when it comes to writing love poems for Leon, I suck, plain and simple. It is like the words are so personal, so private, my heart refuses to share them. Perhaps, because writing and sharing my words are so much a part of me that my mind tells my heart to hold something for just me. . . Sounds possible, doesn’t it, but reality is, I just suck at love poems and he really really deserves the perfect one (NO. I am not going to let go of him so someone else can write one for him, we don’t always get what we want. – Insert grin here-)
So, the poem does have something to say, however, here: Love: All of This and More (On our 33rd)
