Sonnet On My Wife’s Birthday

All the love I have will not take her years away:
All the knowledge given not grant her time release,
Yet one day less impoverishes this great feast
That grew when we together went our way,
Hurrying to meet our newly planted day,
That barely showed above the stony ground
Of our North-East, whose grudging air beat down
The rare freedom that becomes when two are one.
So, when every loss is gain, as every colour, brown,
Or red or tarnished yellow in our life’s spectrum,
Shows itself, why should we protest too much
Against the silent pace that makes in us such
Speed, for we have learned to plant our love so strong
Our children’s children now take up the song.