May this Christmas be the first of many,
Each more joyous in our growing love,
Revealing more of happiness than any
Riches might provide or pain remove.
Years flow like an unrepentant river,
Carrying the soil of life away,
Holding far more than they can deliver,
Rushing past the certitudes that stay.
In love there is an instance of forever
So shy and lovely it eludes the eye,
The sense of being home when we're together,
More enduring than a reason why.
As love is born of passion, borne by will,
So may for many years we choose love still