My wife, I miss you so much.

I think of the day I met you serving in a bar,

Your ringlets hung like bluebells,

And you wore more make-up than necessary.

But beneath the cheap appearance I saw the real you.

I saw the gentle you,

The you that I took home and perfected.

My Nancy, I miss you so much.

I think of our holidays in Cuba, that I paid for, And some of your funny habits.

Poorly domesticated, quirky Nancy. Safe under my wing.

But beneath the fearful disguise I saw the real you. Protected you from scheming 'friends,' The you that I married far from home, just us.

My wife, I miss you so much.

I think of your attempts to please me, and your mistakes,

How you understood the need for my correction, And learned to apologize for your failures.

But beneath that sorry exterior I saw the real you. A head-strong type, hiding money in a secret account, Attempting to thwart my nightly desire for you.

My Nancy, I miss you so much.

I think of our walks along the isolated beach by our home,

How I lavished you with presents,

And allowed you to swim in my watchful presence. But beneath the isolation I saw the real you,

Tried so hard to correct and reason, And reminded you of the debt owed.

My wife, I miss you so much.

I miss watching your eyes pleading under the sea's sweet sheen,

I miss your futile attempts to escape my grasp as the bubbles rose.

I miss you, but you are not gone.