For the Mother of My Children

There's no new thing under the sun, they say,
And what I want to do with you is not
A new thing, really. It's as old as time,
Or anyway as old as life. I want
To kiss your lips, caress your hair and on
With no surprises. Variations, yes,
But nothing that we haven't done before,
Just not as often as we might have liked.

I want to forge again the contract that
Might cause a life to grow within you and
Might bring you pain in birth. And my sweet wife,
For taking this risk on, I promise you
To love you all my life and give you all
The pleasure that my body can produce.