You asked for gifts
Of candied treats
And fragrant flowers.
You asked for excursions
To experience the world
As you hadn't yet before.
You wanted my love
In a tangible way,
And I endeavored
To meet all your desires.
Yet though I shed
A more than fair share
Of blood, sweat, and tears
In my thirsty pursuit
Of keeping you content,
You still found me lacking.
And so sent me packing,
Heartbroken and confused
For weren't my efforts enough?
But love cannot be won
In such a shallow way.
I've learned that now from you.
And so when I tumble again
Head over heels,
I'll be sure to pause my hands
Before trying to work out some grand plan
Of winning love
That should be freely given
Rather than strivingly earned.
For what can my hands produce
In the name of love?
No, all I have left to give is myself:
My thoughts and opinions,
Both my ears for to listen
That I might respond,
To josh or to soothe,
Or to ponder and ruminate
In steady companionship,
For isn't a person better than things?
Things will decay and fade away.
Things will distract and their value subtract
From the moment love can share.
But love in its simplicity,
Love in its seeming paucity,
Love in its bland normalcy,
Is far more steady and sure.
And this is what will endure.
And so this is what I will give,
Not merely baubles and trinkets and trips,
But much more...just me.