My Husband

I met you the day I stopped looking.

Our souls smiled first,

Because they knew.

Holder of my hand,

Keeper of my heart –

That’s you.

Time passes,

And now are we not like the old gnarled tree,

Whose branches show the wounds of harsh seasons?

Yet strong and beautiful,

Growing older together.

© Sharon O’Neil. All rights reserved. Original work protected by copyright law


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