For the New Missus

Even if, for now, I am hushed & I have to keep from doing my happy-jig; Even if I only have the words you send from the clicketyclack of your keyboard, Even if my very instinct is to fly over and make you chicken soup; I shall be still. I shall wait until you think the world should know, and I will let you tell the world, for it is your news.

And then I will do my happy-jig and hire a loudspeaker and a van, and cheerleaders, and write it across the sky; and I'll buy a blimp and put a message on its tail and send it across the world, and I will make you chicken soup...although flying over is tricky as I have to work; but I will make the chicken soup anyway, take pictures of it, and then drink it on your behalf so that you can get the nutrition in proxy!! And...and... (Excitement makes me less articulate and slighty incoherent, as I'm sure you've noticed).