Imperfectly Perfect Poem by Sarah Elizabeth Clark

I'll tell how I love you, would it please you to hear?
If I spilled all your secrets for the world to know,
You're imperfectly perfect, to be honest dear,
But each second I'm with you, I feel my love grow.
You are not a sharp dresser, I won't tell you so,
And you couldn't be quick if the house were aflame.
When you must tease me, I must find things to throw,
Though you will just treat it like part of our game.
Sometimes you are lazy and I can't be the same,
Then the ease of your smile frustrates me to tears.
Despite this I know, I take some of the blame,
So I'll sit down beside you, crack open two beers.
Just to curl up, insist, that I love you much more,
For every problem you pose and for every flaw.