On My Wife Kathryn's Birthday

Golden Hair It was Christmas 1973, as I straightened up his brace A disabled body with unconquered mind, best friends in different states As she walked straight down the cellar steps, my future in her glance Dressed pure white, she’d come from work, her clothes did then enhance The beauty in her heart and beyond, with one look did reveal As she walked half down the thirteen steps, sitting sideways to conceal All lovely strewn and golden haired, with eyes both blue and sharp Her face a lovely countenance, my light now through the dark She looked at me dismissively, and feigned a smile weak As if to say without the words ... you fall short of what I seek She’d heard the rumors in disbelief, and got up to turn and leave I followed to where her mother stood, and with her help did I then plead I said that night to myself alone, that if one thing I shall do I will marry this girl with the golden hair, as God has made so few A lifetime now passed, then half again, she still looks at me that way Not hiding the love she feels inside, until my dying day No words then gleaned or ever built, for feelings such as these My pen now empty and eyes stare blank, at what my heart can only see To love her once was not enough, yet no more was I allowed My chest so small for that so big, her golden hair my cloud If I was blessed with just one wish, and knew it to come true Just one more day with golden hair, —whose love so fine and new (Villanova Pennsylvania: February 17, 1978)