Guarded and gathered with zealous pride,
More treasured than the sultan's horde,
Kisses, caresses and hours at your side,
Priceless, treasured, craved and adored.

Warm with promise of hope and renewal,
Spring's rays touch my up-turned face,
But absent your eye the sun takes a fall, 
Shining icy and cold into desolate space.

Unworthy I ponder what magic was played,
To win your companionship, love and trust,
A debtor in truth for a future now saved,
You give purpose to rise from the dust.

Building Memories

It's not about precision 
Or doing it correctly
Efficiency would call it waste
When done this indirectly

The final product may be flawed
And lack a finer finish
The craftsmanship could use some work
Have defects or a blemish

It could be done much quicker
If I did it all myself
It'd last a little longer
Or look better on the shelf

What lesson would that teach them
What mem'ries would they find
If I took it from their hands
And kept it just for mine


I don't think that I'd like to live there,
Too many steps to the top.
No corners to park naughty children,
A light that will never stop.

Fog that rolls in calls for non-pointed horns,
Warns sailors but wakes lookers on.
Sea-spray and salt coat both precious and poor,
corroding and rusting 'till gone.

A lighthouse in name, it's massive and tall,
Concrete and steel aren't light.
Not fit for a family to call it a home,
A house where I'll not spend a night.