Behold, the significance of when I’m in his presence,

I contemplate on him currently, the future, I don’t stress it,

See him, different through my eyes, his quality is authentic,

Perfect for my fitting, leaving nothing here unfinished,


Hello to the romantics and if romantics had a picture,

He’d be the image, I’d hang onto my mirror,

Imperfect, not meaning that I might adore him any lessor,

If flaws were short of many, I doubt I’d love him better,


All of nothing, with my life on the line, I’ll surrender,

I’ll give it all up or trade it for his pleasure,

My love endures, it’s unselfish but only for him in specific,

For him it compromises, for him it dismisses,


I go where love takes me, I embrace the transition,

I was chosen to love him, I was born to uplift him,

There’s a connection to explain but words don’t do it justice,

Words don’t quite cut it, there’s no reconstruction,


Behold, God created this man for me, created his love for my pleasure,

Created for my affection, customized for my attraction,

He’s poetry, he’s Shakespeare, he’s Whitman, he’s Frost, he’s Dickinson,

He’s Blake, he’s Yeats, he’s Alfred Lord Tennyson,

I’m filled with butterflies, my heart beats one extra,

I find peace in his smile, that puts me back together,

His success are my moments, his failures are mine for the taking,

My love provides him with strength, his fears leave me shaken,


Behold, I love him forever and always, past and present, best and bad days.


-Plychette Montgomery



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