No matter how much I love you,
and love to touch you,
I will always desire
to be with you more,
tomorrow.
No matter how fine
it is to remember
your hand in mine
in September,
it will always be grand,
your arms around me,
through leaves falling
come October.
What ever will be,
we’ll be together,
no matter what ever
November may bring.
I will always love
to hear you sing
the Carols of December.
Poems by Ken 