My Wife; she is woman, a female, my lady...

My Wife; she is a woman, a female, my lady.

She is graceful, kind, and peaceful.

I hold her in a deeper regard than I can show through action.

My will and effort make for a great guise to that of my larger agendas, whose motives are clocked in somehow capturing eternal bliss with her. 

Can time possibly stand still?

Like a projection I am the flat two-dimensional cover being wrapped round, stretched around, and pulled to fit about her three-dimensional surface. 

In her presence I am the straight line that becomes curved; my corners adjust to her so that I become transposed; alive, waiting, hoping to be next to her.

When I met her I lost my breath; for a moment I was neither here nor there.

Did we meet in some life before this?

 At first glance I held a hope in my heart that was either to be the death of me, or extend my being into the abyss that is love; can this somehow last forever?

She taught me, opened my mind.

She carried me, kept me alive.

Let it be known, that I do not deserve her, that the world does not deserve her. She is simply too distinct and harmonious to be observed in the light of a mere mortal or lifetime.

Her voice is a melodic ecstasy to me.

Her smile, her laugh, her warm embrace, her charm with others, her mothering hands, and amazing appetite to never stop;

Never stop living, never stop learning…

She never stops feeding the hunger within...

She is graceful, kind, and peaceful

My Wife; she is a woman, a female, my lady.