Poem for her 72

Dear Readers,


Her

Her hair in my face as we walk close
Her face in my vision as she checks my glasses
Her hands on my shoulders as I help her off the picnic blanket
Her words on a line in a book we are writing
Her voice on the phone in a voice mail telling me things
Her question on her lips as she wonders what is for dinner
Her smile there on the pillow as she wakes
Her artwork in one of our scrap books
Her drawings on the walls of the place we are
Her design of a garden bed in the flowers it is growing
Her lips on my hand as we greet each other
Her legs in a pond as she gets the fish to the bank
Her feet in my hands as I massage them
Her in everything I think about
Her in these lines she reads


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles