For seventeen joy-filled years,
I’ve worn this golden ring.
It’s always there, shiny and bright,
Like a song I love to sing.
Through days of peace and pleasure,
Or painful days that sting,
Through hard work or leisure,
All the wonders life can bring.
It’s color pure as the highest note,
Emerging from a heavy refrain.
It’s always with me,
In loss or gain,
I rest in sun, push through snow,
Or running in the rain.
Even when my hands get dirty,
It never shows a single stain.
This gift from my bride,
Sits comfortably on my finger,
Reminding me of our love,
And joy I strive to bring her.
Whenever I touch it,
My fingers linger.
I see her face, hear her voice,
In my heart, angelic singer.
Reflecting more than just light,
Stories told in the color gold,
Countless memories in its hues,
Many shared and few untold.
Joined in union a priceless jewel,
With value that can’t be sold.
Though we age through life seasons,
This ring seems never to grow old.
-Roger Deemer, 31 July 1988