Cruising Through Another Anniversary

Fortunately for me, my daughter had made plans for Becky and I to attend the Maroon 5 & Train concert for our anniversary.  The show, benefiting the families of those who died in the State Fair tragedy, was superb (though I have always thought Conseco leaves much to be desired acoustically).  If Chelsey had not purchased these tickets months ago, we would have had nothing to do on our anniversary.  Our evening would have consisted of couch conversation during a Gomer Pyle rerun, with Becky asking, "Did you say something?"  "No, I didn't say anything."  "Oh, I thought you said something." 

I did manage to write a very fine love poem just moments before Becky walked in the door yesterday:  my gift.  And I also dredged this sucker out of the archives . . . a poem I wrote two years ago following our 25th anniversary Caribbean cruise.  Nothing has changed in two years.  I still love the old lady, and there's probably nothing more romantic than island hopping.

Caribbean Cruise

The sea is blue.  Our cabin spare.  The service is extraordinaire.
The sky is aqua.  Sunset red.  The buffet is a myriad
Of escargot and caviar.  We drink our wine late at the bar.

The sea is green.  The sunrise white.  The taxi driver erudite.
The sky is turquoise.  Island rust.  The beach is ancient igneous.
The band is silver.  Our faces tan.  The ship is metropolitan.

The sea is purple.  Sunset pink.  We recline on the deck and think.
The evening black.  The stars are white.  We whisper and embrace the night
In love and laughter to discuss the colors miscellaneous.

The sea is ink.  The hour late.  Love holds us as we contemplate
The day now past.  The sky is blue.  And I awaken next to you.