It's In The Little Things

It's in the little things he does.
I don't know if he even realizes it.
How much one little deed can mean so much.
To be told Good Morning in the dawn,
Good Night just before I retire,
Is to be reminded that I am loved.
When he strokes my hair,
pushing it tenderly behind my ear,
it tells me he cares.
When he kisses my nose
it tells me I am cherished.
The way he says my name,
reminds me who I am.
The way he knows what I want,
without my saying,
is a phenomena so stunning to me.
Who is this lover of mine?
This complete mystery?
I look into his eyes and see the green of the sea,
intelligence, and adoration.
He holds the door for me,
lets me lead,
meanwhile watching the path ahead
to protect me from harm.
The way he takes my hand
just when I want him to,
the fit so perfect to astound one,
I have to sigh with delight.
I never thought I would find one like him.
Who would know just what to do,
yet in his youth never done it before?
Who would know to please me,
without question from either side?
A stranger to walk into my life,
then over time realizing
we would not do without.
Oh to know him fully,
to understand not just his mind and heart but soul,
such is my heart's desire.
Is he the one I've been waiting for?
Oh if only I could see.
But that which makes me question this,
and hope it is so,
That which makes me wonder,
what makes me ponder upon his affection,
and desire him more,
That which gives me pause,
and makes me stay by his side,
is all in the little things.