Seeing you in summer I never would go.
Your hair streaked with sun-light, your lips red as flame,
Your face witha lustre that puts gold to shame!
But if I'd ever leave you, it couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle when fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn, and I must be there.
And could I leave you running merrily through the snow?
Or on a wintry evening when you catch the fire's glow?
If ever I would leave you, how could it be in spring-time?
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?
Oh, no! not in spring-time, summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!
It's the tiny little things that get me.
It's the night we went out to see the comet, and I looked up at the sky, and you cupped my hand in your cheek and brought my eyes back to see yours. "I see it."
It's the whole new meaning of macaroni and waterfalls and being able to look into your eyes and know that it's not just all right, it's forgiven. It's the leaning over to put my head on your shoulder and fitting perfectly. It's the little pages I get to tell me you love me, the way you understand my moods - even if you don't like them - and the knowledge that having you nearby is enough.
It's when you call me and my headache lifts for a while. It's when you blow a kiss and the pain goes away. It's knowing that I am yours, completely and without reservation, knowing that I can bare my heart and soul to you and not be burned. It's the subtlety of comfort that comes with your touch and your arms.
And it's more, still more, memories and caresses and midnight walks and all the uncountable reasons why - and I never say it enough, and I never could, not even if I had the rest of my life to tell you again and again -