James C. Keaster Sr.
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Did I not know much better than
That angels here may trod;
I'd feel that I, the only man,
Was hugely blessed by God. Your presence makes existence, life.
Your voice attunes my ear.
A calming breeze in times of strife,
A mate without a peer. How oft you've placed yourself at loss
To just supply my whim,
And gave no thought to what it cost.
No doubt, you are a gem. Your love o'erlooks my weaknesses
Nor does it ever wane.
My life is one of blessedness.
Without you all is vain. Perhaps, if days are granted me,
I might return a jot
Of that I ...