A Full Year.
Only one way to celebrate, of course,
my love, our first four seasons of friendship -
all our events and anniversaries:
Christmas, Valentine’s Day, the first time
we made love, the passing of a much loved
old cat – this one a Sestina for you.
That April evening, when sat next to you,
I first touched you – or you me – set a course
to where we are both lovers and are loved
with an affection that grew from friendship
nursed by determination, fed by time,
towards the light of anniversaries.
And (without which no anniversaries
for us, I think) desire: my own for you
quickly declared and yours in slower time;
we found – find – such delight in intercourse
it seemed only natural that friendship
led to intimacy. But to be loved……
It isn’t any small thing to be loved:
I wasn’t seeking anniversaries
(not consciously, that is) but knew friendship
though satisfying, not enough. Then you
prescribed for me this regimen, this course
your specialty, researched a long time,
which you’d perfect, if only there were time
unlimited. Imperfect, and much loved:
while Earth runs her next less than certain course
around the sun, let anniversaries
be high in our priorities; let you
and I determine to nurture friendship.
To find the best way to nurture friendship
we only need luck and a little time
in which we can research faithfulness. You
have been, may be still, variously loved:
we both have many anniversaries
feeding this river’s yet uncharted course
sweeping us on this course of friendship
through anniversaries that star our time
with loved moments, and all of them are you.