To Esther
July 25, 2009

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On the occasion of this, her most recent birthday,
Here's an ode to my dearest Esther.
Incomparable, singular, and in all ways unique,
There is no one alive who can best her.

Before we met, I was without path.
My life grey as a freshman's first semester.
In the cosmetic store shelf of life,
Every experience was merely a tester.

How our paths crossed needs a sonnet to tell,
So, I'll just act as a Readers Digester,
And hope you'll excuse my condensed doggerel here;
We'll cut to the chase: my meeting Esther.

We met at a party where I entertained
(Truth be told, nothing more than a modern day jester),
But we spoke and as the evening progressed,
It seemed for some reason I might ... interést her.

And I, was quite struck, dumbfounded, I'd say
By the force of nature that is Esther.
And so began our adventure,
Our shared quest, with each of us ... a quester.

Why she picked me is clearly a myst'ry;
I can't know whatever possessed her
To pursue me and win me but to tell you the truth,
I've the better end of the deal: I've Esther.

A whirlwind, a wonder, a creator, a master
Of art in all media is Esther.
She's simply a lover of all that is real,
And of all that is phony, a detester.

A gardener and garden harvester,
In life a friend and mate, in politics a fellow protester,
Always on the go, rarely a rester,
Dear friends, is my dear, dear Esther.

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