You’re my little elephant,

But neither can remember

How we know each other so well.

Nights pass into day

As recollections of conversations blur

Into indistinct smilies and laughter.

Joy has never come so naturally,

Yet there it is

Thriving in a forest of lines and verse.

Stumbling over words that were craft

Simple things weave into rhythms

And songs of elevated thought

Fall short of the emotions

Worthlessly conjured to describe

The majesty therein.

Forgive my weak utterances

My stony fingers and lead tongue

Unfit to even murmur of your grace.