Stella

Stella                                                January 10, 2005

I love you, my fair lady, 

O' princess of the stars in the sky. 

You make my life complete, 

Oh rose petal on my hand. 

I may not be a perfect man, 

But I'll be the best one I can be. 

I love you, dear Stella. 

This poem's for you. 

I've written many a word in my time, 

A plethora of song and verse. 

I think it's high time 

That I write something honoring you. 

I may not be the best poet, 

But that doesn't really matter. 

I love you, dear Stella. 

This poem's for you. 

O', I can write how you compare favorably 

With the sun's showering light on a clear blue sea. 

But that wouldn't do you any justice, 

Don't you see? 

To that end, the best I can offer 

Is a simple, "I love you." 

I love you, dear Stella. 

This poem's for you. 

Last night, I was wondering 

What you might be doing, 

For after all, we were separated 

In a moment only to be described as sad. 

Stella, I wanted to dine with you, 

A nice pasta dinner for two, 

With glasses of Tuscany's finest wine, if that be true. 

What do I know, for I'm a novice on romance, 

So I think I'll stick with this here poem 

And hope that it strikes true. 

So, accept my apologies for daydreaming, 

But they so occupy my time, 

For you see, we're one plus one 

And we add up to two. 

I guess I should stick with what I seem to do best. 

I love you, Stella. 

This poem's for you.