One of my favorites....





To My Dear and Loving Husband

By: Anne Bradstreet


If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever….

This is a Valentine poem from my childhood. Hope you enjoy it!:)

My Valentine

I have a little valentine
That someone sent to me.
It's pink and white and red and blue,
And pretty as can be.
Forget-me-nots are round the edge,
And tiny roses too;
And such a lovely piece of lace-
The very palest blue.
And in the center there's a heart,
As red as red can be!
And on it's written all in gold,
To you with love from me.

~Mary Catherine Parsons~


**I hope everyone has a wonderful Valentines Day!:) **

This is a poem based on my childhood memories of Christmases in Michigan.

The Prettiest Christmas Tree




Blankets of snow covered branches in white
As we walked three abreast, mittened hands holding tight.
You swung me between you and Daddy that day,
On a Christmas that seems long ago, far away.

But still, I remember the smell of the pines,
And how they appeared in their uniform lines.
It was my year to choose, so I ran round with glee,
Searching the woods for the best Christmas tree.

The tree that I chose wasn’t full, wasn’t tall,
But crooked, and lonely, and really quite small.
Daddy and you gave a questioning stare,
And I just explained that our tree needed care.

We brought home our tree in a sheet, wrapped up tight,
And dressed it in ornaments, tinsel, and light.
When all work was done, we sat round in awe
Of the prettiest Christmas tree we ever saw!

~Brienne Adams~

This is a poem I wrote for my husband a few years ago. We have been married about 4 years, and we met in 8th grade. I love him as much and more, than when we first fell in love when I was 13 years old :)

You are…. (to my husband Brian)



This ring says you’re my husband,
This ring says I’m your wife.
Your words say you’re my soother,
That you’ll take away my strife.

Your hands say you’re my lover,
Your eyes say you’re my man.
Your fists are my protector,
Your praise my greatest fan.

Your friendship is my comfort,
Your presence is my light,
Your watchfulness my virtue,
And your honesty my sight.

Your love is mine forever,
Your passion wakes my soul.
Your mind says you’re a challenge.
You truly make me whole.

~Brienne Adams~

I wrote this poem after a particularly nasty fight with my father during highschool. Ahhhh...the teenage days... It must not have been a truly important issue, or I would remember what the fight was about! As you can see, it is a little long winded, but so are dramatic teenaged girls!!! Anyway, I love you Dad, and hope that I have become a woman who makes you proud! :)

Daddy’s Poem

What is a love eternal?
What is a love that’s kind?
What is a love elusive,
a love within the mind?

What kind of love is sacred,
so deep inside your soul?
What kind of love is healing?
What kind of love is whole?

Which love is often sought for,
bursts tears forth when you’re mad?
That love that’s all consuming
is love defining Dad.

All little girls need laughter,
all little girls shed tears.
All little girls have nightmares
and bring Daddy all their fears.

Their Daddy is protector,
a strength and silent light.
No matter what befalls them
their Daddy is their knight.

And as the girls grow older,
they still grasp their fathers’ hands,
and yearn to hold to Daddy
as life slips through time’s quick sands.

They may feel sad, uncertain,
fear that Daddy’s love will change
or wane as blooming women
feel their lives just rearrange.

Will Daddy love my changes?
Will our love still strive to be?
Through the fights and understandings
will he still see baby me?

A daughter’s greatest fear
is to lose her father’s love,
to mar the girlish image
that home movies whisper of.

But all little girls grow older,
all little girls will change.
The love they share with Daddy
will just grow and rearrange.

And women still need laughter,
and women still shed tears.
When women still have nightmares,
they’ll bring Daddy all their fears.

For daddies love their daughters
and they deep down know it’s true.
This woman’s still a little girl,
and she knows you love her too.

I love you daddy.
Love, Breezy

Inspiration

This poem appeared in Dorothy Garlock's 1986 novel, Wayward Wind. She cited her mother, Nan Carroll Phillips as the probable author. I first read this book in the mid 1990's, while still in middle school, and this poem served as an inspirational springboard for my own writing. I loved the poem so much, that as a child I created a melody for it that I still find myself humming or singing today. I hope you enjoy these words as much as I have :)

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Will You Love Me When I'm Old?

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When my hair has turned to silver,

and my eyes shall dimmer grow,

I will lean upon some loved one

through my twilight years I go.

I will ask you of a promise,

worth to me a world of gold;

It is only this, my darling:

that you'll love me when I'm old.

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Through the stream of life together,

we are sailing side by side,

hoping some bright day to anchor,

safe beyond the surging tide.

Today our sky is cloudless,

but the night may clouds unfold;

though clouds may gather 'round us,

will you love me when I'm old?

A Poem For October

This is a poem I wrote several years ago. It is based on my memories of fall in Michigan as a child.
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October


October is the time of year
When frost may start to coat the hills.
It’s bad news for the ice cream shops,
And good news for the cider mills.

If snow’s not fallen, leaves have changed,
Brown and orange in colored hue.
Waiting for the coming snow,
The trees will sleep, then bloom anew.

And in October, families sit
Around the fire’s brilliant light,
To laugh and talk the time away
In snug abandon though the night.

October is a month of change,
In nature, and within us all,
For as the heat of summer fades,
We greet the vibrance of the Fall.

~Brienne Adams~