I wish I could show you what you let me see: happiness, loveliness, infinity. 2/25/02010

Your face is why I open my eyes each morning to seek happiness 2/24/02010 A haiku.

Relaxation trumps frustration only when you get it. Complication trumps elation only if you let it. 2/23/02010 Either this was written during a week when Beth was suffering from some frustration at work or it was simply an exercise in rhyme. I really can't recall.

When I am sick, I try not to kiss you. I give you some space. I leave you a buffer. This is a trick, but there is an issue: my lips miss your face in hopes you won't suffer. 2/22/02010 I must have been suffering from a cold when I wrote this one.

Your smallest part is dear to my heart, even if that part is shrinking. Your funniest twitches have had me in stitches, so I'm glad you practised your winking. 2/21/02010 My darling wife was in the process of losing lots of weight. As of now, she's down by a bit more than 140 lbs. and is very nearly at her goal. She's amazing! So that's what the reference to shrinking parts is about. The winking reference has to do with her having learned to wink, through practice, since we met. It's not a natural act for her, so it's still awkward. She knows not to pretend that it's a natural act. So she's not prone to using it in public and accidentally creeping people out with it. That's a good thing.

I wish I could give you much more than I'm able… a husband with all of the charm of Clark Gable, a great fancy chair at a great fancy table, your very own horse in its very own stable, a heroic role in a wonderful fable. 2/20/02010 Five rhyming words. I think this would be my record holder even if I hadn't resorted to using a celebrity's name. For those of you who are too young to know who Clark Gable is, you have the internet. Look him up!

If I took all of your kisses and put them in a vault, you could hardly blame me. Really, not my fault. I treasure all those kisses. They're more than I could earn. The trick to ever deserving them is more than I can learn. 2/19/02010

I love your eyes with their ever-changing hues. I love that you love me even if it's just a ruse. I love the turned up curls at the corners of your smile. I'm glad that you've loved me even if just for a while. 2/18/02010 There's my famous insecurity rearing its ugly head. I'm really shocked at how many of these are love poems! If you're sticking around waiting for something that doesn't fit into that category, I admire your persistence. We'll get there. Eventually.

Roses are red. Pansies are pink. I love you more than you ever think. 2/17/02010 Formulaic, no? You got a problem with that?

When you touch me with frozen hands, it's always nice; not because I like the cold but because I love your caress. 2/16/02010 Sometimes my darling wife's hands are freezing! Here I've acknowledged that.

I have loved you ever since you were younger. I will love you even when you are older. You are older now than I was when we fell in love. But I will never be younger than you are now. 2/15/02010 Not my best. I'm pretty confident in saying that.

I is for the infinite love I have for you. L is for the lips you let me kiss you on. O is for your ojos. (That translates to "eyes".) V is for the vision that you put in mine. E is for enjoying all my time with you. Y is for yesterdays and tomorrows, too. O is for only you, who are my lovely wife. U is for unique. (That's what you are.) 2/14/02010 An acrostic. Why not? I'm trying to keep up a one-a-day pace here!

I have noticed recently that I have started to laugh like you, with no intention of doing so. I guess you influence me in ways I never would have anticipated. 2/13/02010 A true story. And the thing is that if you asked me to consciously mimic Beth's laugh without having just heard it, I would be unable to do so. But when I hear it, I know it. Even when I hear it from myself.

This may sound corny and sappy — as if I'm taking you for a ride — when they ask me how to be happy, the best response I can provide — better than puppy breath — has to do with my wife: Be sure to marry Beth — my trick for the happiest life. 2/12/02010 Another gushy love poem.

A penguin will fly through the water; a pelican flies through the air; you've flown as far as Texas; but an emu can't fly anywhere. 2/11/02010 Beth was quick to point out that she has flown farther than to Texas. The flight to Las Vegas brought her even farther from home. Oh well! It wouldn't change the rhyme scheme or the meaning of the poem. Still, I feel as if I should present the original wording of the poem even if it's flawed.

with your history of throwing games of miniature golf with the intention of making me more confident in my ability to hold my own with you, I sometimes wonder whether you have chosen to surrender anything of your identity to try to make yourself fit into some notion of what you think I am looking for. I hope not. 2/10/02010 On our first vacation together [when Beth was my boss; long before I had any idea that we would end up together romantically and long after she claims to have known that we would marry], we went miniature golfing. I got terribly upset at discovering that she wasn't competing to the best of her ability and was, instead, playing intentionally ineptly. This was some silly misguided ploy of hers. Something to do with believing that men can't be comfortable with losing in sporting competition to women. She wanted my ego to come away unbruised, as I understand it. Ridiculous!

Jewelry has metals and flowers have petals, and some people like them a lot. But one thing that's true, sure as Elmer's makes glue: they just don't have what you've got. 2/9/02010 I think this may be among my best.

When the sky falls out from beneath my feet and the ground is too high up to touch you'll still always be my magnetic true north where I'll find you, I love you that much. 2/8/02010 See what I did there? Not too shabby, I think.

I researched my condition. Why consult a physician? This is my diagnosis: chilblains. Good is my prognosis! I know this poem is not so romantic. At least there's no reason to get frantic. My toes will not fall off my feet! Maybe you'll think that's sweet. 2/7/02010 I've recovered. Hooray!

I'll be dead by morning, with hardly any warning. Sharing my final day with you is the only way I would go if I had my say. 2/6/02010 This was when I had a mysterious ailment causing problems with my feet. Hence, the speculation about my impending death. Not to worry. I didn't die that night. For the diagnosis and prognosis, check out tomorrow's poem.

I love you without regret. I hope you do not forget. I love you without remorse. I hope you don't want a horse. I love you with plenty of reason. I hope you don't think that's treason. 2/5/02010

Remember that time you told me a joke? I remember the time you gave me a poke. Remember the time when you sang me a song? I remember one time when I sang along. Remember the time when you drove a car? I remember hoping you wouldn't go far. Remember that time when I wrote you a verse? You might've thought it couldn't get worse. 2/4/02010

When I wake up in the morning and discover that I have been sleeping on my side I take stock of my brain to see which parts have not leaked out through my ear. I am always most pleased to discover that the parts dedicated to loving you are still firmly in place, right where they belong. 2/3/02010 The backstory: I have a horrible memory. This has long been a bit of a private joke with my darling wife. One day, years ago, I said something about how my brain must have leaked out of my head while I was sleeping on my side. I was very proud of myself for formulating such a clever idea. But Beth told me that it was not actually my own original idea. According to her, it was something she had said about me some time earlier. Though I have absolutely no recollection of her version of the idea's origin. Like I said, I have a horrible memory.

If I were able to fly to the stratosphere of my own power, I would only ever try to bring myself near to you, my flower. 2/2/02010 I'm especially proud of what I did with the rhyme scheme here. Say mean things if you like. But the worst you can do is to crush my spirit.

Maybe every step I ever walk and every word I ever talk and every stroke I ever swam and every me I ever am are especially for you. 2/1/02010 I like the structure of this one. Two rhyming pairs sandwiched between a couple of "free verse" lines.

What is the value of a poem compared to the tender touch of my lips on your slumbering cheek? 1/31/02010 The haiku variation: what worth is a verse compared to the tender touch of lips to your cheek? I like the haiku variation more than the original.

Tomorrow is the next day when today's been lost in time… lost except in memory when I was glad you're mine. 1/30/02010 I don't think this one's worded particularly well. Plus it involves forced rhyme. Not my finest moment.

Just as the tallest branches touch the distant sky, so does my love reach to you wherever you are. 1/29/02010 I'm really sappy, no?

Your smile is the best part of my day. Or maybe it's your touch. Perhaps it's your kiss. But I suppose it might be your laugh. I guess it might be your voice. You are the best part of my day. Every day. 1/28/02010 Back to gushy. This one's sort of linked with #10. I'll let you decide which you think is better.

It made me so sad when you busted your knee. I'm glad that you've enjoyed a recovery. I hope you won't need to resort to crutches to escape from your arch enemy's clutches. 1/27/02010 My darling wife dislocated her patella, which was horribly painful. This poem was a celebration of her recovery from that injury. This one's not particularly gushy, I think.

You are the center of my orbit. Without your pull, I would fly off in some random direction, aimless, lost forever. 1/26/02010 What's this? Two consecutive non-rhyming poems! Just hold on a while and soon we'll get to one of those poems that isn't a gushy love poem. Really. It's coming.