Last night I had a dream that my husband read my poems 

I’ve been wondering for years now if I should show him

I’ve written about him and my friends

Some secret things 

All those words and lines since childhood are my musings 

I could never get on a stage 

Or in front of a camera 

Or even in a book 

Nah, I’m too afraid 

There’s feelings and reelings

My frustrations 

Disappointments and triumphs

Imagination

And other stuff

I was scared to death 

As he read what I’d left

I felt unclothed, totally exposed

I wasn’t sure which way he’d go 

I just stood there, ready to crumble 

He didn’t laugh (only at the funny parts)

He held that collection of my poems gently like it was my heart

He held it next to his 

Walked up and gave me a kiss

Asked me to marry him (though we are already married)

My shame and fear were buried

He had a twinkle in his eyes

And he said, “I love the way you write”

And we were married that night 

“Every poem is a beautiful surprise”

Oh, to be known 

And still loved

The pen keeps scribbling, the keys clicking

Faithfulness flowing 

Like a fountain 

Marriage is a poem 

He inspires me 

And everything I write, I show him