and a dozen before that,
and a dozen before that,
way back to the summer
when I was a lass and you
were my sun and moon.
And things have not changed,
but add now a sprinkle of stars,
cinnamon of misty mornings,
cayenne of anguish averted,
curry of sage warnings,
tumeric of sultry nights.
Six of one, half dozen of another
would not describe the way I feel.
Give me a dozen more, a dozen
more and then a dozen more again.
*written August 25, 2009 -
five days before our twelfth anniversary
