A Sonnet for my hunney on his birthday

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March 31, 2010 By kimc

Unlike my oldest daughter, I am not a poet and have never really tried to be one. I do, on occasion, enjoy poetry, but the deeper sorts leave me lost.

I think we all know the first line of the sonnet below, but parts just didn’t click in my brain so I’ve taken a few liberties, in the hopes that my sweet husband will recognize my own feeble influence in the results below.

I offer my apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

A Birthday Sonnet for my Beloved

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

Of the chocolate you bring each night,

For the coffee flavored Hagan Daaz.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

noise level, as high as the jet-engine thundering in flight.

I love thy silly faces, as men strive for right;

I love thy passion, thy sweet words of praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In ten labors past, and another in May.

I love thee like the drunkard loveth his booze,

ever loving you more, — I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.