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Time Does Not Bring Relief

I remember…
…how you would play with my hair in back when we sat together.  I felt safe and loved… then.

Adpated from a poem by Pulitzer Prize-winner Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss her in the weeping of the rain;
I want her at the shrinking of the tide;
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,–so with her memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell her foot or shone her face
I say, “There is no memory of her here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering her!

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Days of Absence

I remember…
…sitting on the back porch at the big house watching the birds and trying to identify them in your bird book.
 
Swiss philosopher/composer Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)
Days of absence
Sad and dreary,
Clothed in sorrow’s dark array.
Days of absence
I am weary;
She I love is far away.

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Surprise of Being Loved

I remember…
…seeing you up on the ladder cleaning out the gutters in your overall shorts and your straw hat.  You looked very cute. 

English novelist/playwright Charles Langbridge Morgan (1894 –1958)
There is no surprise more magical
than the surprise of being loved.
It is God’s finger
on a mortal’s shoulder.

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Crescendo of a Rapturous Moment

I remember…
… what a good kisser you are.  In my memory are mostly slow, soft and tender kisses but also there are your highly passionate ones near the crescendo of a rapturous moment.

Taken from “What I Love About You” by  Averil Binetti
The sparkle in your eye,
The warmth of your skin.
Your breath on my neck,
That quivers within.

The touch of your hand,
The smell of your hair.
The kindness in your smile,
That strength in your stare.

Your kiss on my lips,
Your body near mine.
The stroke of your touch,
That feeling inside.

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Whether You Feel It or Not

I remember…
…when you took your dress off and posed in your slip for my camera in plain view in a city park.  I cherish that memory.
 
Robert Browning to Elizabeth Barrett, April 1, 1846
…you
are
kissed
whether
you
feel it
or not
through the distance…

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How I Feel

I remember…
…when we went to San Antonio for a few days.  We saw the Alamo, had fun at Riverwalk and took a nighttime ride in a white horse-drawn carriage while we snuggled from the cold.

Attributed to Kyle Schmidt
I have said nothing
Because
There is nothing
I can say
That would describe
How I feel
As perfectly
As you deserve it.

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Worth Fighting For

I remember…
…making love with candles burning all around the room and seeing how beautiful you were in the soft glow of the dancing flames.

Erica Jong, O Magazine, February 2004
Love is everything it’s cracked up to be.
That’s why people are so cynical about it…
It really is worth fighting for,
risking everything for.
And the trouble is,
if you don’t risk everything,
you risk even more.

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Where I Ended and You Began

I remember…
…the times we spent together snuggling on the couch while we watched a movie. It was difficult to know where I ended and you began.

Napoleon to Josephine, April 5, 1976
My one and only Josephine,
apart from you
there is no joy;
away from you,
the world is a desert
where I am alone… 
You have robbed me of more than my soul;
you are the one thought of my life.

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With All My Heart and Soul

I remember…
…watching you sign with the deaf kids and how they would gather around you.  You have a special gift with children.

From the novel “The Notebook” by Nicholas Sparks
I am nothing special, of this I am sure.
I am a common man with common thoughts
and I’ve led a common life.
There are no monuments dedicated to me
and my name will soon be forgotten,
but I’ve loved another
with all my heart and soul,
and to me, this has always been enough.

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Seemed to Mean So Little

I remember…
…when we were in Eastern Europe at the conference I attended and how you put a chair up on the bed so you could more easily see the frozen lake winter scene out the hotel window.

From “The First Day” Christina Rossetti, 1830 – 1894
I wish
I could remember
the first day,
First hour,
First moment
of your meeting me;
It seemed to
mean so little,
If only now
I could recall
that touch,
First touch
of hand in hand!