Patience - A labour of love and endurance as I see it

 On a long weekend, as newly weds often do, I found some of the rose tint wearing off. Not being used to domesticity, the husband and I tried to find a rhythm to our oddly jarring gears. The whirring, the creaking, it took a while for us to get our marriage here; to the mostly well oiled machine it is now. 

These lines, though,  are a throwback to more than a decade ago . Lines that flowed freely, a salve that soothed my burning angst.
A testament to love, a testament to fortitude, a testament to a marriage that has taught me oodles of patience.
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this.
 

And you sit there
And have the gall
To accuse me
Playing ball
You say
With your emotions
A story that is as tall
As you, or worse
As deep
As me.

My supreme sacrifice
In this, my silence
Not one of my virtues you see,
Grips me in a vise
While you dribble
Around, and fumble
Reach out and snatch
At words that refuse to latch
Onto exactly what you would like
To say.

And still…
I wait,
Not always patient,
Sometimes I sigh
Sometimes gasp when the price you extract
From me, my love
For yours,
Though rightful
Seems just a little too high.

And still…
I stay,
While you muse
And rave
And rant
And then subside
Turn in for the night
For tomorrow,
Is another day,
Another chance
For us to smile, to laugh
To dance.

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