Forever and a Day…

Roses are red, Violets are blue. Remember the rhymes, I made for you? (I love corny starts)

I strayed from the path, I had to, how could I say such things to you?

I remember you looking at me there in your chair, your face so beautiful, pretty and fare.

I fell in love instantly and desired you truly. Then the rhymes stopped and most ended groovily! (Ha, that was a good one)

My poems, they left the trail that too many know. With you, they discovered a road of their own.

I stopped rhyming the moment it seemed to silly, to compare your face to the beauty of a Lily. (I mean, I guess any pretty flower will do. Funny how these side notes, to me, make it true. Ha, that rhymed too. )

Here is where my rhymes stray… My heart belongs to you, my pretty girl, forever and a day.

These words they keep rhyming, describing your beauty. (Do you have any idea how much I wanted to write booty?) Our life together like a storybook movie.

Your lips, even now I desire to kiss. After eighteen years, they bring me nothing but bliss.

Oh, how I love your beautiful fits! (Some of you have dirty minds!)
When I went to work, I have to admit. You lured me with your eyes and my senses, you outwit! (Work with me here!)

When The darkness came and you held my hand. When the shit came down and the pain began… You helped me stand. (This makes me cry..)

The last poem I wrote, “It’s quiet” It was called. Didn’t explain your part in it all.

Your soul, your beauty (*Grin* now-now), your smile. Your intelligence and smart’s beat all by a mile. Your dedication and heart and allegiance to me. Every man wants a woman, by his side, like thee! ( I love using the word, “thee”!)

Even though the pain overwhelms me. Your very touch makes the pitch darkness flee. In my Grey/gray I can sit with thee! (YES, I got to use it again!)

My pretty girl, I love you so much. Every moment I live I desire your touch. It pleases me to know you feel the same way. Together we are freaks in this world today.

A rhyme dedicated to my devoted wife. She makes my life worth all of it. (The kids are in there somewhere too! hehe )

T.L. Stafford


  1. The asides, I felt, were a secret I felt guilty for reading. Your poem was a beautiful and corny dedication to your wife. Amazing!

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