I Love Poem by Jim French

I love
The smell of fresh bread
wafting through the ice air
from the bakery
on dark winter mornings

I love
the smell of coffee
as the vapour from the cup
twists its ways to my nose
as I look down at it
waiting to take the first sip

I loved
the smell of my daughter
when a babe
carried in my arms
of bath, powder and her

I loved
The sight of her first steps
as she tottered across the living room carpet
as I held out my hands for her
to come to me, or to stop the fall that eventually comes

I love the feel of my woman
as we cuddle for the middle times of the day
there has been a first
and there will be a last
but we are not there yet

I love the sound of my son
giggling an 8 year olds giggle
at a joke he alone understands
from me, from the TV, from his head
Who knows?

I love the way
That I haven't got a clue how this poem will end
Goodbye

Remember to love.