Morning Dove

If I was to count how 

many ways I could

say I love you

it would take more than 

days.

And days. 

I could sit forever

And count the ways. 

Morning dove

after morning dove

could sing 

another 

and

another 

good morning

                                                                           

in my ears

as I continue to count up 

my, 

"I love you, dears".

Gladly I would tally.

Mountain would become

valley. 

My loving words endless. 

Time could pass away

but

my counting would stay.