To my dear Dorothy on her Birthday (1973)

The holiday is over, your birthday is nigh,
Mountains seem so far away, a truly distant memory,
Another part of the world newly found and enjoyed.

To see you stride along new paths,
Laugh and talk with new friends,
Watching you cycle by is still a joy to me.

But I must only whisper,
How many years have passed,
Remembering with gratitude the ones that I did share.

I have long been aware that
Beautiful mountains, lush green fields,
Deep blue seas, warm sunshine,
Can only be fully enjoyed by your loving husband,
If the main ingredient is there — you.

— Mike