Yesterday Phillip wrote me the sweetest poem. I have a folder in my inbox for all the love letters he has written to me. It's labeled "Love Letter", guess I'm going to have to change that. Anyway ... here's what he wrote
A sad little wife is not so easy to spot.
They don't soil the carpets or trip while they trot.
But rather the spark of joy faintly fades
In sometimes the most subtle of shades.
I think I know a cure for this disease
Just the right thing to set her heart at ease.
You might think that a trinket or toy will do,
But I know better (she's my wife, so I ought to).
What this melancholy bride needs the most
Is not a bed-tray of hashbrowns, eggs or toast.
Rather something more precious and fine
That comes from her husband: and that is his time.
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