Being with her is just a constant pleasure;
Perhaps not always equal, but sill grand.
Affection flows beyond what could be planned,
And everything is love in massive measure.
She is the central purpose of my leisure,
The pad on which my happiness can land,
The arch by which my joy is made to stand.
Yet under this substantial load of pressure
She has not buckled, but remains with me;
She still believes I'm equally as key
For her as she for me; and this alone,
This happiness which she shares equally
Which we together by ourselves have grown,
Is why I must resist all urge to groan.
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