Old News

He looked her in the eyes,
On each anniversary,
For the past twenty-three years…
And confessed how much he loved her.

Everything he ever wanted,
Everything he ever dreamed of…
He found in her.

What she needed,
He wanted to provide.

What she hoped for,
He longed to fulfill.

What she hungered for,
He rushed to satisfy.

After all these anniversaries passed…
One by one…
He couldn’t help but feel the
Same way about her.

There was nothing
More important in his life,
Than this beautiful woman…
His wife.

And now, on this anniversary,
He stood before her,
Holding her hands,
And professing,
Yet again,
How much he cherished her.

So she smiled,
And with tears welling up in her eyes
Reached for husband,
Wrapping her arms around him,
And whispered in his ear,

“Silly boy…that’s such old news.”

“But I love you telling me anyway.”



© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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