How do you tell someone
You can spend the rest of your life with them?
Do you say that you can see
The house you’ll live in?
The older brother sitting in his room playing violin?
Perhaps the older daughter,
Walking through the front door
After being dropped off from the mall
By her seven month boyfriend.
Maybe it’s the little daughter
Running to her mother’s open arms
Lamenting over her fragile little toe
Throbbing in pain after tripping going up the stairs.
Maybe it’s when I pick her up and carry her
To her bed and lay her to sleep for her afternoon nap,
Serenaded by her sweet older brother
Playing Mozart, Bach, and Yellowcard
Slowly on his violin.
Maybe it’s when I walk down the creaking stairs
Of our two-story home to you waiting at the bottom
With that grin you always give me
When you look into my eyes.
Maybe it’s when we step outside
To the porch and rest our weary legs
On our porch swing, feeling the breeze
As we lightly rock back and forth,
Never stopping looking into each other’s eyes.

Anthony C, "Porch Swing"