Page 164 of Love Practically

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And now I pray for you to see

A way to love . . . practically.

Morphed and molded, formed and changed,

Fluidly falling from stone and rock,

Into molten mother wife with

Smiles and happiness in your walk.

Behind you, no longer visible

All aching hope, all anguished talk.

Today I smile because I see

That you are loved . . . emphatically.

Leah took Jack from Fox and handed her husband the poem to read. He scanned the lines, grinning wider and wider as he read.

Slowly, he set the foolscap down, smile so joyful and loving Leah’s heart feared it would burst from happiness.

“Ethan is a perceptive poet.” He kissed her at that, whispering against her lips. “Because, yes, my darling wife, you are loved . . . emphatically.”

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