Hours of silent time punctuated by clacking keys.
From both sides of the fir-laced upstairs study,
Interrupted only by the Christmas bird clock
Above my book-lined, cluttered, friendly desk.

He turns from his computer with a smile.
"There's your bird again, honey!"
I turn from mine, cross the room,
Wrap my arms around him in a hug.
"What have you been working on? Do I get to see yet?"
He scrolls up to where I left off last time, teasing,
"Oh, Rosamaree, are you sure you want to?"
His warm blue eyes shining.

Oh, my dearest thirty-six year love,
Our quiet intensity in writing together
Is one of the brightest joys of my life.
My husband, my lover, my partner, my friend,
How I love you!