Not a bard, and hardly a poet,
I thought of our love, and of how to show it.
I could not bring you love's head,
Nor could I point out that i'd made love dead.

See, i'm but a humble Monk.
One known to carry some spunk.
Not really known to be a humble man,
But in this venture, I did have a plan.

I'd mention all the smiles you bring my life,
And how much i'd love you, as my wife.
Tell you of all the ways you make life better,
And how I tell my Erasmus, 'Glad I met 'er.'

There was just too much i'd plan to write,
Tell my scribe it'd be a long night.
Make sure you knew all I saw inside you,
Make sure I thanked you for all you do.

Again though, my profession is a Monk,
Well, that and your full time hunk.
So my poetry skills might be a bit sad,
But if you can enjoy this, then I can be glad.

Be it sitting in a diner, or on the rampart,
Know that you alone, are in my heart.
And as our wedding draws near, please see,
That I wish nothing more, than you here with me.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Ferinus, in the year 432 AD.