litany

You are the peanut butter and the Jam,

the brandy  and the brandy snifter.

You are the fog on the lake

and snow on the mountain.

You are the bib on the baby,

and the robins of the spring.

However, you are not sun in the sky,

moon and stars,

or bees in the hive.

And you are certainly not center of my universe.

There is just no way that you are the most important thing in my life.

It is possible that you are the cows in the feed lot,

maybe even the seagulls on the wire,

but you are not even close

to being the rose in the rose garden.

And a quick look in the mirror will show

that you are neither he tools on the work bench  nor the car in the garage. 

It might interest you to know,

speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,

that I am the sound of the children in the hallway of the school.

I also happen to be the fireworks in the sky,

toilet paper going down the toilet

and the basket of fruit on the dining room table.

I am also the _light in the parking lot

and the _old women sitting on the porch.

But don't worry, I'm not the peanut butter and the jam.

You are still the peanut butter and the jam.

You will always be the peanut butter and the jam,

not to mention the  brandy  and--somehow--the  brandy snifter.