Hand in Glove

Sometimes everything falls into place.
My hand fits in his hand like a glove.
His heart finds a perfect spot in mine.
Pieces of our separate puzzles line up
in a map of OUR life.
Sometimes I just want to scream out of happiness
in the wind's face.

But I don't scream at the wind.
It's just Me and Him.
When all is quiet under the moon
I whisper in his ear:
Thank you,
Sun of my life.