You have an extraordinary talent for voicing a "meanwhile…back at the Hall of Justice". It makes me sad that you never exercise it any more. It is one thing I miss about the you you used to share with me and no longer do. 3/26/02010 A sad poem about longing for something my darling wife used to do to amuse me and has ceased to do. In case you don't get the pop culture reference, there used to be a Saturday morning cartoon on the teevee about the DC superheroes. There was this narrator who used to say, "meanwhile…back at the Hall of Justice". Beth used to do a spot-on impersonation of said narrator.

I will love you till the stars come home; till the cows fall from the sky. 3/25/02010 See what I did there?

I hope when you dream of a happier future those dreams will still include me. Whenever I picture the decades ahead, by your side is where I want to be. 3/24/02010 Yet another gushy love poem.

Perhaps eventually you'll know just how far I would travel to let our endless loving grow and not let it unravel. 3/23/02010

I always try to tell you but it comes out sounding weak… our love is like a mountain… like the highest-ever peak. 3/22/02010

What if I told you that my knees go weak when you kiss me as you do sometimes when you love me? 3/21/02010

I'm glad that you found me. Oh yes I am! I like you much better than raspberry jam. I love you. I love you! I love you so true. More than clear skies love to be blue. 3/20/02010 You guessed it! Another gushy love poem.

I don't want a baby, not even if it's small, not even a quiet one that knows how to crawl. I don't want a baby no matter how clever, even if it's cute and works a mean lever. I don't want a baby, no matter how smart, talking in sentences right from the start. 3/19/02010 One of the things Beth and I have always been in agreement on is our desire to not have children. Babies can be amusing in their finest moments. But they're really hard to deal with on a long-term basis. Even the best baby in the world has more downside, in my view, than upside.

You know, I've been thinking that if we weren't already married, I would get down on one knee and propose (to you, of course). 3/18/02010 Gushy.

I think of you pleasurably and love you immeasurably. 3/17/02010 Succinct.

Your shoes may be fancy, your dress may be smart. Don't call me Nancy and I won't call you Bart. 3/16/02010 Not a gushy love poem!

You stole my heart and now it's yours. I like thin mints. You like s'mores. 3/15/02010 Girl Scout Thin Mints are, objectively speaking, nature's perfect food. My darling wife likes the marshmallowy "goodness" of s'mores. Enough said.

I forgot my contact lenses and my glasses got foggy but I could still picture your face. 3/14/02010 My job requires that I spend time in walk-in freezers. When I wear my glasses, they fog up upon exiting. This is the whole reason why I got contact lenses. Some days I forget to wear them. This poem was composed on one such day.

When our dog barks and our others do too I still feel a spark when I think of you. 3/13/02010 Sometimes I look at one of these and think "this was a particularly weak effort". Such is the case here.

I feel lonesome, I feel blue when I don't get time with you. 3/12/02010

I love the way you laugh when you think of something funny. I'm glad you don't complain when your eggs turn out all runny. 3/11/02010 Sort of an odd little gushy love poem.

If I could have you love me for just another day, I would be quite lucky in the most wonderful way. If I could have you love me for just another week, I'll be lucky in a way that I could never speak. If I could have you love me for just one month more, my luck would fill me all throughout my core. If I could have you love me for the rest of the year, I would be so lucky; of that you should be clear. If I could have you love me for the rest of my life, I would be the luckiest; perhaps you'd stay my wife. 3/10/02010 Another gushy love poem.

Food with lots of spice can be quite nice. When it's way too hot, nice it is not. 3/9/02010 I had probably cooked something that ended up overly spicy the night before I wrote this one. At least it's not a gushy love poem for a change.

I don't like that I'm so much more trouble than I'm worth. You deserve so much better, the best on the Earth. 3/9/02010 I have this little self-worth problem.

I sometimes lose track of the distinction between a sheep and a lamb, but I'm not confused about ewe. 3/7/02010 I am opposed, in principle, to the pun. But sometimes I resort to using it anyway. Shame on me!

Your delicate fingers are lovely to watch as they tap out their messages on clicking keys, destined for deciphering by far off friends. 3/6/02010 A rare love poem about typing.

Walking hand in hand with you down life's serpentine path is every bit as wonderful as the most luxurious bath. 3/6/02010

At the ocean's edge, the lapping of the waves is a whispering of my love for you. 3/6/02010 This one is quite similar to its immediate predecessor.

When the wind blows through the treetops, it makes a rustling whisper confirming my love for you. 3/4/02010 A gushy love poem that doesn't even rhyme.

Indian food for lunch will be much better than a carrot. Or at least that's my hunch. I wish I could be there to share it. 3/3/02010 This was on a day when Beth went with Jen to Concord. They went to lunch at an Indian restaurant, which made me a bit jealous. Lucky for me, my darling wife brought back some leftovers for my enjoyment.

Flying cars are not here yet. In the future, they'll be I bet. Talking dogs, you'll never find except perhaps deep in your mind. Some things likely, some things un-, bets are lost and bets are won. One unlikelihood already true: lucky me gets love from you. 3/2/02010 This one doesn't really look like a gushy love poem until you get to the end. And there it is!

If you wore a sweater, perhaps you would feel better. At least you might be warm even during a storm. But if you're on a boat, you should consider a coat. Out there on the high seas, the wind's more than just a breeze. 3/1/02010 This one's not a gushy love poem!

Your face is home to some of my favorite parts including my favorite cheeks. I think we've had among the very best of starts: great years and months and days and weeks. 2/28/02010 And another gushy love poem.

Shoes and socks and pants and shirts are things that you can wear. Pinching, poking, teasing, taunting: things that I can bear. Loving, hugging, kissing, laughing: things that we can share. Everything that makes you you: things that make me care. 2/27/02010 Yet another gushy love poem.

A rabbit may be quick. A pony may be pretty. I'm glad you didn't pick a home inside a city. 2/26/02010 I am regularly thankful that we moved to the middle of nowhere, New Hampshire. The lack of crowds, the lack of traffic, the clean air. All of these things are wonderful! Beth found our house by shopping on the internet. We fell in love with the building and probably would have bought it even if it were in Concord or Manchester. But it isn't, and I am glad for that.