in her undying love

so it's true

Bette got my cheese

and the dog ate my pretzel

after a swim 

chasing sticks

getting in their licks

while the sun was bright.

yes, it was quite a sight

in the short grass by the creek

at the end of another work week.

and a song passed thru my head

about the fragrance of homemade bread

and the taste of French red wine,

sharing glasses with the special lover of mine.

it ages well 

like a magical spell,

looking backward to the ages once before,

sitting on a soft carpet on the hard floor.

growing older by the stream as it flows,

no longer caring where it goes.

there are memories being carried away,

never to return on some other day.

and i looked across a quiet street

wondering who i would eventually meet

when the dog fell asleep

and the music came to an end,

always dreaming of my special friend:

would the truth be revealed

like a tasty orange newly peeled,

which is my fondest wish,

like a childhood comfort food dish.

yes, searching and never ready to pause,

immune to the audience and their passing applause,

dreaming of home and the embrace

of my cheese lover and her welcoming face;

spring flowers are blooming in her vase

and i can rest,

feeling blessed

in her undying love:

it's what i'm always dreaming of.