It's that special time of year when we celebrate our compounded Anniversary. Twenty-four years together, eleven years married.
These are photos from our wedding day.
It is my tradition to write a poem to the man I love. Here is this year's:
Today!
Today we celebrate
twenty four years
comingling our fates,
eleven of which spent
being eaches contracted mate.
And how fine has been our time
lingering over lavish words,
lips caressed together
in "Os" and "Awws"
in late night... conversations,
laughing, crying, sighing, eyeing,
feeding one another fine food
and libations of ginaveer,
insinuating sexy slanders
that blush under the expectant smile
leading to the prayerful extacies
of exhausted sleep.
How can I but worship you?
Holding truth before us is nothing new
in our bridal bed -
known and practiced -
exposed and valued -
pulling back sheets and blankets
in renewed purpose.
My bouquet of white roses
may be faded away
but the love I feel for you
will last for a single eternity.
I hope that will be long enough.
Beverly Van Pelt, Nov 15, 2020