How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!
I love thee from severely challenged height,
(My soul may reach, but inches don’t requite)
From quiet keyboard in my special place
I love thee for thy aromatic grace –
Most urgent need, when evening turns to night
I love thee warmly when thy strength is right.
I love thee milky when it’s time to graze –
I love thee when I wake and feel like death
When wine and merry laughter taint my breath
I love thee editing when letters play
With too much squinting; and as midnight sounds
When bed is calling. If I had my way
I’d banish instant and but drink thee ground.
With sincere and abject apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning