For My Love, On Her Birthday Poem by Michael Shutt

Her Birthday
is a gift to me.

That started first
on Feb the Fith,
way back in 1965.

Although I did not
know it then.

The day,
Her Day,

and though,
not knowing,
my day also,

when my Heart's Heart
first graced this world

with Kindness,

Beauty,

Wisdom,

Love;

Her Birthday
was a gift to me.

Although I did not
know it then.

Who was this child?

Who was She then?

And who would
She become,
when She first loved me
in the High, Sweet Summer
of Her days?

Swaddled,

Sweet,

And Loving,

Warm...

I guess not much
has truly changed-

She still is Sweet,

and Soft,

and Warm-

Though sleeping in
a different bed,

She would grow
into my Love,

and dazzle me.

Although I did not
know it then.

And in the Gold Days
of our youth,

Her Sweetness,

Kindness,

Beauty matched with Brilliance,

made my self-involvement reel-

On looking back,
I wish I'd had the fortitude
when She passed by me
in the halls,

I wish I'd chanced
a kiss to steal.

Although I did not
know it then,
some pain I'd cause
in days to come.

Like butter on
a precious vellum folio-

Like angry wine stains
on pure Irish linen-

She blotted my transgressions out.

And though, I did not
know it then,

Her dear pure Soul
would wrap me in
forgiving arms of Love-

Make good the Night,

and lead me to
a Gentler Dawn.

And so,
I pause,

And say a pray of Thanks
for Feb the Fifth of 1965.

And for the Blessings
brought into my life,

One Year,
and One Month Less.

I know it now.

Although I did not
know it then.

Happy Birthday, Darling.

February 5,2014