A TOAST TO PICKLES AND RAINSTORMS

     Tonight love, I am thirsty
though it really is no wonder
I've only eaten a thousand pickles (kosher at that)
single droplets of water? will not do!
yet gallons upon gallons
and jugs and jugs
and gulps of fine juices
will only make me sick
This is moderation
in my drinking
in my life
with you
     Tonight love, I'm sweaty
though it's really no wonder
It's only a hot summer night
and I am wearing wool
yet going nude
in a roaring blazing hurricane
would only chill me to the bone
will only make me sick
This is moderation
in my rainstorms
in my life
with you
     And they say moderation
is the key to contentment
but where is the door
and can I pick the lock?
is it all beneath the floor?
or perhaps it is the spring
of love, of a clock, of a life
of time spent
and time for spending
spending
not money
but youth
a time for growing, learning, experiencing
spending time
with you....
with you?
with you love, 
typical moderation is not possible
yet somehow
I remain content
So a drink
a wool sweater
and a toast (with strawberry preserves)
to pickles and rainstorms
and to a crazy life
with you