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Every year, for their wedding anniversary on Halloween Night,
Bret and Rhet exchange poems as gifts.
This is their gift album:
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From October 31st, 2014:
Bret to Rhet:
PUSS PUSS
Puss puss och kram, yes this husband still loves his man
Summer in Sweden, painting and pleading
Friends and foes, step on ones toes
People are different, I am indifferent
Life is short, you leave port
Wedding vows, Swedish cows
Nordic sheep, don't fall asleep
We are here, they are there
Step up to the plate, before it is to late
Love is kind, patience is blind
Fight to the finish, happy as the Finnish
Scandinavian dreams, midnight screams
Take a stand, leave this land
Love is life, without it there is strife
Heart is yours, you gently snore
Another year together, we always seem to weather
Long live Rhet, long live Bret
Life together, today and forever
Rhet to Bret:
Three Years at Quail Run - 10/31/2014
"Whatcha doing?"
"Ddwhat?"
"What-Are-You-Doing?"
"Hmm...going to feed the birds.
All the plants are watered."
So, Standing by the Kitchen's window,
Looking out over the garden's path,
And watching quite content as you
Lay out Songbird Supreme,
Hopeful that
Our Quail will run,
Back and forth,
eating as much as they can.
Now, Its just a footpath that most would miss,
And it means so much more than
It's dirt,
It's leaves,
And It draws it's lifeblood from us.
I must confess!
I get scared sometimes.
Like when I wake up late at night,
Or when a day goes by and there's no text,
Or when you rise and groan.
I worry that my world is only as strong
As your will to live,
To be,
To be here for me.
Who is the Rock's rock?
Who supports the Boulder,
When the shoulder that holds it
Shrugs from age,
From weariness,
Of this life.
I know it is my love, my desire,
To be here for you too.
If you're not,
I wonder who will buy the seed?
Who will
Venture on the grounds known to harbor venomous snakes,
Who ignores the spider's web,
the scorpion's mound,
Just to scatter bird seed around,
And bring the quail to me.
And in the spring, when eldest marches through the yard,
Teaching the youngest where the best eating in town is,
Regularly,
I think of you,
and what you do
And what you mean
And where we are,
And where we're going.
And yes, I know,
Because there are no guarantees,
No simple recipes,
No today-tomorrow warranties.
But there's you and me.
And I'm trying my best to
Quail Run
Right beside you.
For both of us.
Happy 10/6 Hallowversary
My Dearest Bret,
I love you!
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2011 Bret to Rhet:
October 31, 2011. Year number 3, but really nearing 8. : )
For my husband Rhet on this gorgeous blue sky day in Paris, Autumn 2011
NYC to Venice skies,
my dear husband will not fly.
Queen Mary would be proud one might whisper,
but not to loud, wouldn't want to disturb,
this is could be her shroud.
Caviar and champagne in dinner jackets,
we toast Madame Dodie,
warm smiles cast upon her soft light.
With us each moment as one might expect,
traveloo fabaloo with great love and respect.
Sweet ocean moon shines do bright,
but where?,
we might ask are the stars tonight.
There are times we run short with one and other,
but the tensions don't last because we love each other.
Oh, what great discoveries we shall find,
on paper and canvas as we open our minds.
Taxi's, Trains, buses and ferries
this is a vacation to celebrate the day we were married.
I love you,
Je t'aime,
Jeg elsker deg,
Minä rakastan sinua,
Jag älskar dig,
Te quiero,
Ti amo,
Ich liebe dich,
Eu te amo.
Happy Halloversary
Mon cher mari
It can be said in so many ways,
but I am here with you now my dear,
so you have everything in the world,
just like Charlie Bucket,
so Phuket.
Your husband Bret
We love you Rhet
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We Love You Rhet!
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2011 Rhet to Bret
Did We Kiss Enough?
In this one year so much lost,
And so much lost becomes
So much more gained.
On three different fronts
Our home, our hearts, our happiness,
It seems so much like pain...
My dearest Dodie takes permanent flight from me,
This Creates an immediate and intimate vacancy.
I look to you for some sort of sympathy
You respond with casual uncertainty.
And... Breathe.
I take my lumps, crawl back into bed
Let four days of agony wrack my head
I feel that I'm just better off dead
Than to remain, as such, legally wed.
But could we tear apart what we built so easily?
When others wed and mingle with complacency!
A Brittany Spears fuck-in Las Vegrancy
Beaten up true-true love by insincerity.
For a moment there, we were both dosed with insanity.
And..... kiss.
So here we are, today, atop the tour d'Eiffel,
This love of ours just can't be a triffle,
Not with Hearts going off like Winchester rifles.
Now there's a metaphore neither should stifle.
Who knows if what we say or do
Even remotely comes close to true
Genuine seems so odd for us fools
In those times, Matrimony just seemed so cruel.
When we're looking back from 30 years hence
I certainly do not want to be sitting on the fence
Wondering, wondering if by lovely chance,
And not some awful state of reluctance,
Did we?
Did we?
Did we... kiss enough?
And.... Blink.
Some walls for some
Some caverns for others
Prevent this bliss
From a simple kiss
He's too damn cold
She's too darn proper
They're too damn tired
Our love's transpired...
Some stones for some
Some sticks for others
Way too much too risk
When kisses smother...
But i will never know what these others miss
Because, dear world, I just got my ten millionth kiss!
I love you, Husband Bret.
Rhet.
31.10.2011
Hotel Chambiges Elyssèe
Rue Chambiges
Paris, France
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FROM 2009:
Bret to Rhet:
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MY HUSBAND
Life for your mind-love-blind. Oh, love of mine.
De-evolve my heart and sight-beating towards moths light.
Silent nights creep into my sub-conscious minds clutter.
Shapes black and white become colored and muttered.
Sweep the dust from beneath these nails.
Thou life's purpose may elude thee,
- breath and heart shall not fail.
Oh, love of mine, an alabaster cast.
Venetian masks wipe sorrow from our brow at last.
Love is a word given, but not bought.
Twilight wain's, so be alone-not.
Love thee fair-love thee well.
On this Hall-O-ween I cast thy spell.
I do! I do love you.
Koo koo Ca Choo ...Peepoo and the Monamoo.
With love, Bret
oh, and happy halloween. BOOOOOOO.....
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Rhet to Bret:
Why My Marriage Keeps Me Young
Again our morning stands at it's beginning,
first light pulverising everything in it's way,
ageless, endless photons spinning,
and refusing to decay...
Ah so typical me-me.
to take the task at hand,
and sanitize it,
no brutalize it,
Til it's emotionally bland!
Isn't love messy?
Isn't love grand?
Isn't love diminished,
when poked, prodded and planned?
Some say it's just a streak of feelings,
that exist nowhere else but between our ears.
But we know its a side-by-side being,
protective against irrational fears.
But what's true to love,
be it in mind, breath and heart,
is that it shall never fail,
duely noted; love is a work of art.
Isn't love a scaffolding,
braced round a building's firmament?
Isn't love a Promising,
based on more than quick-dry cement.
These things we do to vow intent
These words we ply like innocents
These looks we steal with uncertainty,
Isn't love the ultimate warrranty?
Isn't love ours to keep.
Isn't love just one long BEEEEEEEEEEEP!
With love, Rhet.
oh, and happy halloween too.
BOOOOOOO.....
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