Birthday

Guest post by: Guy C. Maggio


Yesterday was my birthday and my husband wrote a poem for me. Best gift ever.
Plus, two dozen roses! I feel so lucky. I wanted to share because he is just as talented at writing, if not more so, than I am. I just have more time to be creative.


Today is her birthday.
She didn’t ask for much-
Just some flowers and nice words.

She never asks for much-
Just the hardest things for me give:
Patience
Kindness
Compassion
Tenderness.

Simple gifts that cost nothing
But my ego and pride
Which I, shamefully,
Have treasured more than gold.

For forty and four sun-cycles
She has lived;
I’ve known her for nineteen of them
And lived with her
Longer than any other-
Even my own family.

She is
A writer, poet, teacher, and mother
My closest family and confidant.

She has
Loved, honored, and stayed with me
Even when I have not been
Loving, honorable, or companionable.

Today is her birthday.
She doesn’t ask for much-
Just some flowers
And nice words

And the hardest gift for me to find:
To be a better man.

She deserves the best.


Thanks, Guy. I love my presents. Our vacation was present enough, but you constantly amaze me. I know we frustrate one another, but the good times are better than anything.

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