The prompt word on this Valentine’s Day is, fittingly, “passion.”
Each morning when I wake
to shrill alarm or sweet bird song,
depending upon the requirements of my day,
you are the first to greet my opening eyes.
You rest there on the pillow next to me
in the bed where first I, then you,
have fallen to sleep the night before
too soon, too soon,
before half our words were said.
It is the first stroke of my fingers
that brings you finally to life.
Your countenance lights up
and the same love words
I revealed to you last night
are returned to me.
My hands caress
and new words come easily
first to me, then to you.
I touch gently all
your fine smoothness,
everything that I give
continuing our long love story
of give and take
as I shift your light frame onto my lap
to stroke your separate parts
from question mark to exclamation point.
Could a PC ever rouse this passion in me?
No way, MacBook Air. Thou art my love!
The above is a rewrite of a poem written 5 years ago, and my passion for its subject continues to this day.