Can I count loving you 18 ways?
Can the moon measure its luminous glow
on newly captured fallen snow
or the sun count its glorious rays
as night fades to dawning day?
Can stars fall from awesome heights
to quench their luminescent light
or eagles soar on wings of time
to prove our created paradigm?
Can all the waves on all the shores
be placed in drawers to be stored?
No, for these are marvels beyond compare
yet my heart does boldly swear
that my life will run out of days
before I stop loving you eighteen ways.
Fantasies of a Forlorn Fairy 