Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.
Life is but a dream.

Sometimes the truth
is like holding
a smoldering flame
in your cupped hands

where if you do not
throw the flame
then it will burn
you alive.

When first we saw the apple tree
  The boughs were dark and straight,
But never grief to give had we,
  Though Spring delayed so late.

When last I came away from there
  The boughs were heavy hung,
But little grief had I to spare
  For Summer, perished young.

I have been trying to love you slowly
Like painting a picture
Exercising each color
Mixing different ones
Covering over mistakes
Learning from them
Loving you slowly
Like learning to ride a bike
Starting with training wheels
Until I can balance myself
On my own
Loving you slowly
Like writing a book
Using metaphors
Fixing the grammatical errors
Learning that each and every word
Has a deeper purpose
Loving you slowly
Like using a needle to dig through
A granite wall
Like emptying the ocean
Using only a teaspoon
Like putting out a forest fire
By spitting on it
Loving you is a slow process
I want to realize the significance
I want to focus on every detail
I want to keep this love alive
For as long as I can bear
I know that we are not to the point
Of calling this love

But slowly, oh, so slowly
I know we will get there