Aiming from the same rifle

 she graces my day
hones my inner rays
Moves me from delayed
Keeps me closer to hooray
Than naysay

Tis the lady who halfs my life with me
shares the trifles, aims from the same rifle
cuts with the same knife as me
She ripens with me on the same tree
roots different yet intertwined

Roads were blurred and muddled at their junctions
There was no guardian angel to say i could start building my own
And there she was stones, gravel and sand to aid me
Our thoughts build that road through high hills
but they keep pounding and paving and toward a better life
aiming

I was often taken astray whims and vices a million
Imagine the price of wandering asunder
How I let them steal my thunder
and still be deaf and blind to a girl handing me lightning
A wife who aims from the same rifle seeks out the same prey

This rhyme a simple homage to her thirty eighth birthday