For my Husband on his Birthday, NaPoWriMo, April 6th

For my Husband on his Birthday, NaPoWriMo, April 6th

True love is commonplace.

It's in the paintings that 

grace the walls of caves, ships,

Chapels, turrets, in the

Whispers of underground

Bunkers, behind rustic

Shutters of isolated

Woodland cottages and

Fifty shades above street 

Level. Find love in the

Shape of lips, delicate,

Curving, lifting, pressing

Against, giving life to

Words that hold hearts dear. Hear

It in the music of

A washing line in the

Wind, a kettle's whistle,

A baby's wail, silenced

By a warm nipple in

A sleepy bed. Taste love

In birthday cake crumbles,

Chocolate kisses and

Spaghetti wishes, in

The damp spot behind an

Ear after bath time, and

On a finger-full of 

Raw, sweet dough. True love is

In the letterboxes

Living in the copper

Wires, echoing across slow 

Oceans, broadcasting in

Outer space. In poppy

Strewn mountains and shadowed,

Grassy valleys, in dank 

Marshes and knife-edged plains,

In sweaty ballrooms and

Resined studios, love 

Sweeps feet into air and

Air into life. Love's in

The future and the past,

Seek it hidden in the 

Present, wrapping itself

Everywhere infinite

In minds and under feet,

Through fingertips' soft

Grip on elbows, bent knees,

Delicious tickled toes.

While ours is as unique

As a combination

In a pack of playing

Cards fifty-two love deep.