Avon My Love

                                                     AVON, MY LOVE
                                                     by Merlin Compton

        The poet wrote: “How do I love thee?
        Let me count the ways.”
        Impossible, I say
        Like counting of the sun the rays.

        Or the countless grains of sand
        That on the seashore lie.
        Or the myriads of stars
        That at night sparkle in the sky.

     Why not count on my head the hairs
     Or the dreams we have dreamed,
     Some with time faded away,
     Others coming to life it seemed.

     So at night I think of you.
     I see the stars, oh how they shine.
     My love for you like a heaven full of stars,
     Each one for me of love the sign.

       

        Sweetheart, when I think of you,
        Not only stars, but the sun and the moon
        You are to me, shedding light,
        Making my pathway clear and bright.

        It is true, my life began
        When first in Denver our glances met,
        Although we did not know
        That those hours we would never forget.

        Of a future we both saw bright,
        Of children, books and music.
        Of homes filled with love
        And every blessing from above.

        How could they know
        That what to them were dreams
        Would one day they would share
        As man and wife, now a married pair.

        Violin music kept him enthralled,
        Poetry they shared enlarged their souls,
        Mastering a language brought great rewards,
        Studying the Scriptures inspired their goals.

        To him a wonderful young lady she was,
        Possessing qualities deep and radiant.
        About her the more he knew
        The more his admiration for her grew.

        But love, how could it be?
        Nothing but a friendship sincere.
        A mission’s labor to fulfill
        So they served the Lord with a determined will.

       

        What could this young man offer?
        It certainly wasn’t much.
        Spanish he could handle well,
        Talks he gave with a polished  touch.

        But money he had none.
        His family, not elite but common.
        Education, very little he had
        And musical talent, really, very sad.

        In that Elder, what did she see?   
        Something deep and solid.
        Something she yearned for in her life,
        Something that promised a future of happiness rife.

        A potential she saw in him
        That he didn’t know he had,
        Qualities she wanted in a mate
        For whom she would patiently wait.
        

        Now he in Texas, far away,
        And she in Utah, both drawing nearer
        By mail a friendship becoming love,
        Feelings for each other blessed from above.

       

        Courtship, marriage, children,
        Diplomas, service in their Church,
        Hardships in a trailer and in homes so small,
        A life so full, they lived it all.

        The wonders of the Old World,
        The glory of the New,
        With art and music their lives were filled.
        With countless hours their lives were thrilled.

  

 

        So many talents my sweetheart had.
        Poetry,  violin music so sublime,
        Sketches so many and so clever
        Artistically pleasing each endeavor.

       

        
        Others there are that must be mentioned.
        So many there are it’s hard to believe.
        Flannel board stories by the score,
        Quilts and tea towels and postcards galore.

        So many qualities did she possess,
        Patience, friendship  and many more.
        Love for all children, no matter the race.
        No matter the color or shape of the face.     

        But most of all, it is certainly true,
        You are so much a part of me now,
        Stronger you have made me   
        And made me more than I could be.

       I love you, you are my angel,
        A touch of Heaven on this earth.
        With wonder you filled my life
        When you became my lovely wife.
       

        The years have passed, how soon they flew,
        Only memories of the past are left.
        In a temple, how holy  that vow,
        Eternity awaits us now.


    Note from Merlin:  With this poem I have tried to express how much Avon means to me. Ever since we met in Denver, or perhaps it was when we were writing letters to each other, I’m not sure, my world has revolved around Avon. She has given me love and support and made my life a wonderful experience.
 

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote: “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” I don’t think she could and I know I can’t, it would be impossible. So in this poem I have made an effort to express how her life has impacted mine and some of the ways I have learned to admire her.
  

  Why now? We are both in our eighties. What is really important in our lives lies in our past. That is nothing to be sad about; that is just the way life is. There won’t be much we can do in our remaining time on earth that would be meaningful. So now I can look back at Avon’s life and our life together and try to encapsulate how her life influenced mine. I have said it before. My life began when she entered it. She has certainly “lifted me up.”

Note from Tammy:  My dad asked me to post this poem for my Mom's birthday which is July 13th.   The sketches are  by my Mom, the first  from her  missionary journal, and the second from her  travel sketch book.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!