Weighed and Measured

What is the measure used to quantify,

The fullness of love between a man,

And his chosen mate,

Is it in time together we ante?

For that would certainly be of weight,

Or is it of selfless deed?

As that is a tangible gauge,

Even moving words,

And the sentiments they convey.

What is the portion used to tally,

All the care that matters,

Between a woman and the man,

She trusts to care for,

The fragility of her heart,

Is it her body in trade,

Her stare and gaze,

Meals,

Or children that bear

His name?

What is the scale to which,

We pay tribute,

Could it be the end result,

The longevity of the shared,

War they wage against,

The fallen world and its,

Selfish ways?

I believe that it is simpler,

Far less complicated,

A thing much easier to rate,

For the calculation,

That grants the clearest rank,

Of the might by which we love,

Is the number of breathless,

Moments caused,

By our actions, words, and trust.

So, know your worth,

My angel,

Stored in the eye of my heart,

Understand the value,

Of your place,

Be keenly aware of the

Standard you set,

And the priceless nature,

Of your wage.

You keep me winded,

And aghast,

Nearly pressed,

To suffocate,

You rob me,

The autonomy,

Of the instrument,

Of mortal breath,

When my soul,

Stirs in your presence,

And my spirit,

Regards your face.

The awe you inspire,

And the wonder,

You have placed,

Fills my heart,

And presses in,

Leaving breathless respite,

Anxiously in its place.