Writing you poems.
Bringing you flowers.
Kissing your ear.
In the early morning hours.
Respectfully loving everything you do,
Incredibly happy to be, me and you.
Gifting is a term so frequently used.
However, love is fragile and easily bruised.
Taking nothing for granted.
For love can be lost,
With the selfish ego paying the cost.
Always knowing, you are my star.
I never forget, the gift you are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem