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Husband Thank You Poems | Thank You Poems About Husband

These Husband Thank You poems are examples of Thank You poems about Husband. These are the best examples of Husband Thank You poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode |

Ode to My Husband

Ode to My Husband
What a wonderful, magical surprise! Sometimes love arrives in disguise. I never saw this coming, Never anticipated such an awesome blessing. I was at the right place, When I spied your sweet, handsome face. It was at the right time, When you called me your goddess and I knew you were mine. Until I met you, I was like a sad, little bird with no songs to sing, With only broken wings, l had to work my way through some hurtful things.
But you came along, A real man, unselfishly offering me strong, broad shoulders to lean on. It was a long, slow process getting back on track, But you were patient and willing to take the burden off my back. When I was lost and alone, you showered me with loving attention, Tenderness, kindness, and consideration. You nurtured and cherished me each step of the way, Building my confidence and trust each day. Thank you for helping my fragile heart to mend, Thank you for helping me become whole and to love again!
Entered in contest "Best love poem #3" sponsored by Poet Destroyer A (5-26-2014)


Details | Rhyme |

The True Love of a Man

When I was just a little girl, I dreamed I’d meet a knight. He’d proudly wear his shining armor, and guard me day and night. I kept on dreaming half my life and searched as I grew. Until I found my knight one day, I found my knight in you! Before our paths crossed that day, my struggles had been great. But when I laid my eyes upon you, I thought it must be fate. You gently got to know me and embraced me as a friend. And as our friendship grew in time, we knew it wouldn’t end. As our lives were set in motion, we climbed mountains and sailed seas. And as we’ve shared our lives together, we’ve blended with such ease. Our friendship grew as years passed by into such an enduring love. This thing we have together now was blessed from God above! I know we both have said it. We feel it in our souls. We’ve devoted our lives to each other, and together we’ll grow old. The love we share is very rare, and should be held with high esteem. For some may only find this kind, only in their dreams. This is what God planned for us, to live here on this land. To be the best we both can be, walking through it hand in hand. Even when our roads seem rough, we must have a faith that lasts. We’ll smile as we share many today’s, and reflect gladly on our past. I hope I’ve touched your life my love, as much as you’ve touched mine. For this is the love I’ve always dreamed of, a love both gentle and kind. I believe we meet our “soul mate” only once in our lives. This blessing from God has come to us, I’m proud to be your wife. With all this said my poem will end. A poem for my love, who is also my friend! I want to thank you with all that I am, For showing me Darling, the true love of a man!
With all my love, Michelle Merry Christmas – December 2006©


Details | Epyllion |

It's your attention to detail

Gentle caresses sweep my skin
with creeping tenderness,
devouring every curve of my body
and feeling its sizzling melt 
against your skin.
Your loving gaze enters my soul
striking away all attempts 
to keep the padlocked
heart and mind 
shuttered from any harm.
Your finger tips tantalize 
my womanly form
raising delightful awareness.
You lead my chin towards you
brush your nose and lips 
over my face as you slowly
move towards my mouth
then meet, magically.
Explosive emotions 
dynamite through my mind 
as we meld together
powerless 
I become putty in your hands
and you play purposely 
mastering your art
knowing it’s your attention 
to detail that matters
in loving me.


Details | Rhyme |

Remind Me

Remind me when I forget, of all the things you have done for me.
Living and loving so carefree.  Remind me when I get upset, you would
hold my body so tenderly, settting my heart and soul free.
Remind me that a love like yours will never be.

Remind me of all the great times we shared, you giving me all the love I
need, and we both helping each other to succeed.  Remind me of all the good
in you, so I will know your love is true, then I will know what to do, and that is
to keep on loving you.


Details | List |

Is This : " LOVE ? "

My Life : FOREVER
 My LOVE : ETERNAL
My Tears :  BLESSINGS
My LOVE : IMMORTAL
My Fears : RELINQUISHED
My HEART : YOURS

My Eyes : See YOU
My Ears : Hear YOU
My Lips : Taste YOU
My Hands : Caress YOU
My Breath : Inhales YOU
My HEART : YOURS

    ( CONTINUED )

Author’s Note :  This is a Birthday POEM
To “ LENORE ELLEN ( Adams ) JOHNSON “
           MY LOVE , FOREVER
              November 4 , 1951


Details | Verse |

Purple Ink carefully formed letters

To my Moonbeam leaping stag,
box  of  miscellaneous keys two
little shelves your favorite chicken 
salad  with pot of  Lady  Grey tea.
Royal jelly honey-based receipe
all natural retorative  toiletries.
Splendid Summer afternoon
strolling and chatting in the deep 
wicker chair at the old country house.


Details | Rhyme |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.


Details | Prose Poetry |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"


Details | Light Poetry |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | I do not know? |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


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