#257 With Your Permission Poem by Jimmie Arrington

May I be your jacket
That shapes your shiv’ring form
And fights the bitter cold?
May I be your winter gloves
That keep your fingers warm
Within my knitted hold?

May I be your umbrella
That blocks the rain from you
And keeps you dry and sound?
May I be your walking boots
That keep your feet dry too,
As you wander around?

May I be your fire,
Your kindling and your coal
That thaws you out, My Dear?
May I be your hot chocolate
That calms your heart and soul
And brings a smile of good cheer?

May I be your candle
That lights your darkened path
So you can see your way?
May I be your medicine
That cures illnesses wrath,
Replacing joy with your dismay?

May I be your tissue
That wipes your streaming tears
As you weep in sorrow?
May I be your favorite song
You sing throughout the years
And brightens your tomorrow?

May I be your blanket
That wraps you in your bed
And shields you in the night?
May I be your pillow
That cushions your sleepy head
‘Til you wake at morning’s light?

May I be your best friend,
The shoulder you cry on,
The listener as you complain?
May I be your servant,
The prop that you rely on
To support you through your pain?

May I be your dearest love,
To whom you nightly cling
While in your sleeping position?
May I be your anything,
Your something or everything?
I so would, with your permission.