The fire burns

As I am finishing shaving I remember my friends statement about his wife--

"The fire is gone but shoulder to shoulder, we walk through this life."

I walk softly over to the edge of the bed and watch as you quietly breathe.

Unable to resist I slowly run my fingers across your serene face. The strand of hair curling behind your ear runs across your alabaster cheek and through my hand.  My eyes focus as I lean closer amazed at your beauty.

Does the fire of romantic love have to die with time?

My fingers feather down your gently curved leg slowly to your toes. The effleurage deepens your slumber so I whisper in your ear, “Come my love.  Open those emerald eyes.”

As I lightly tug at your fingers you slowly slip your smooth feet onto the floor and reach for my shoulders. Resting your head  across my chest your soft auburn hair cascades down. I feel your heart beating next to mine.

As you ease open your eyes, I gaze into them closely trying to plumb their depth but it is like the boundless mysterious ocean.  I can only stand in amazement and quietly say,

 “Good morning, my princess. "

"Happy eighteenth anniversary.”