They Are My Rock

My balding friend with the mischievous grin
Could yank his head away or kiss my chin.
The lady who would make puzzles all day long
Might come in scowling or snapping with the song.
The lover with “Sweetheart” forever on her lips
Could instead pout in her chair with hands on hips.
The artist who teases me and pokes at my side
Might ignore me, or mumble and grumble, or cry.
The schoolboy who loves to scheme, hide, and chase
Could raise a fist or slam a door in my face.
The giggler who picks flowers whenever they appear
Sometimes calls me a name my ears cringe to hear.
Moody and unpredictable as these friends may be,
They steady my world, like roots on a tree.
They are my rock, the foundation of my world.
As with spring petals, these friendships have unfurled,
Revealing to me a love deep and wide
These rocks keep me on land, regardless of the tide.