by Roy Croft
I love you not only for what you are,
but for what I am when I am with you.
I love you not only for what you have made
of yourself, but for what you are making of me.
I love you for the part of me that you bring out
I love you for putting your hand
into my heaped up heart and for passing over
all of the foolish things you can’t
help dimly seeing there,
and for drawing out into the light
all of the beautiful belongings
that no one else has looked quite
far enough to find.
I love you because you have
done more than any creed
could have done to make me good
and more than any fate could
have done to make me happy.
You have done it without a touch,
without a word, without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself –
Perhaps that is what being a friend means, after all.