With apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(Written around 1996 to my wife.)
For ___ mi Schatz
Why do I love you?
The reasons seem clear to me, though
I know you, scanning the mirror,
do not always see face to face
as I do you.
Or you would know that,
as a friend, I love you as my chief,
nay, sole, confidant,the only person
to whom I can, or want, to tell my
secret desires, whims, fantasies
and dreams.
But more, you are my therapist,
helping me visualize dreams
I never knew I had,
Bringing them into focus
for us to grasp together;
helping me solve — and survive —
the problems and delusions of life.
You are my intimate, and have taught me
that joy shared is Joy realized.
Before you, fun was BeachBoySurfSand.
Now, it is rapture, bliss, joy complete,
no matter how small
(watching a sunset together)
or how climatic and grandiose
(the birth of our children).
It has taken on a synergy, where
the sum of the experience
does not measure up to the total
because you share it with me.
I love you because you give
and give, and give, and give
and though I wish you would take more,
I cannot ignore what you give
and endow so freely.
I love you because of the gift of life
you gave and are giving daily, not only
to our children
but to me.
Your selfless sacrifice
helps me accomplish
what I need to feel of worth.
Dare I say it? I love you
as a paramour
(though technically, they are only men).
You are not afraid
of dalliances with your husband,
of sending him chocolates and a dozen
red roses … or of offering your moist red roses to him, whether wrapped —
in white silk, scarlet or lace midnight —
or unwrapped, surrounded only by
your sweet perfume.
As my ship of state of mind
is battered and tossed
on the angry world seas,
you are not afraid to grab me,
pull me down and provide my anchor.
I love you for your physical beauty,
and for the extra that your spirit adds.
I gaze at you in wonder, often, because
you are so comely.
Every part of you blends exquisitely
with every other part
and then
— like frosting on a cake —
your spirit exalts the physical
to radiant perfection.
I love you because of your intellect.
Your sagacity puts into new perspective
ideas and thoughts that have confounded
the so-called wise men of our time
and ages past.
I delight in your acumen,
in our long talks together,
when I try to intellectually ramble
and you adjust, provide commentary, and
summarize in a neat, tidy package.
And I’m continually amazed at
your ability to innovate,
to think new thoughts,
and to present them flawlessly.
You’ve given me many more insights
and much more knowledge
than any of my previous so-called
intellectual friends.
Compared to you
they were like the dew
before the mid-day sun.
I love you for your gracious nature,
for your courteous, cordial,
genteel ways,
for the grace with which you carry
yourself
and for the dignity I receive when
I am with you.
Lastly — because it is
the Alpha and Omega
of our Existence —
I love you for your sanctified nature,
not only for the godly part of you
that find nuances of the SPirit
I’ve never experience and makes them
part of our thoughts,
but more,
I love you
for the spirituality you bring into
our home,
our relationship,
my life.
And so you can see …
I do love you, and though
I cannot let you see your grace, beauty
and spirit
through my eyes, yet,
perhaps,
I can polish the mirror
so you may see more clearly
until that day when we both
will see ourselves
and each other
face to face
and know
even as we are known.
Love, _______ dein David
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 
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