Any Ol' Lover's Quarrel

Any Ol’ Lover’s Quarrel


Finally I saw the thread that connects the two of us by each end.
Nay, thread is what the Romantics use; let’s try rope instead.
God said our love should not be fragile, for it is His painting of love.
So I have put up Love’s declaration on that shiny, skinny gold mantel.
By our troth to God and even before, we became that model
Of all things real and magical that others say they search for.
But we know that love is not a level plain, without slopes and hills.
To get to the undiscovered land, the rough seas must deliver pain.
And even now when our love is mature, stones are amidst our sand.
But how can we fight with petty reason after so much we have explored?
I know that in minutes, hours or a day, we will be genteel again.
The Now, however, truly never fast enough seems to pass away.
If being blind before you did not see what all you truly mean to me,
Then I only hope you return to former education and get yourself a degree.
My week begins on that day, the Sabbath day when we depart from our chores.
I always know that when I see and hold you then, my clothes will meet the floor.
So I will not worry when we fight, or flee, or feel daggers of pain and fright.
I only want that within a short time, you bring me your heart and show me I was right.