More than Roger Rabbit knew

How many of you remember Who Framed Roger Rabbit? You may have to go digging back in the memory a little bit, but I'm pretty sure most of you do.

If you will remember, in there, he is having problems in his marriage to his ridiculous wife who made (makes) women all over the world have a complex because we can NEVER look that way. I mean, really, she keeps that hair perfectly in place all the time. The products that are available to animated women is just simply unfair.

What? Isn't that what you were thinking too? I thought so.

Anyway, Roger gets the idea to write his wife, Jessica, a poem to tell her how much he loves her. Anyone remember how it starts?

"How do I love thee, let me count the ways....one...two...three...four....."

Remember?

That was my first exposure to this poem. It actually took me a long time to want to read this poem because I thought it was just a cheesy love poem that some love sick, pathetic, hopeless romantic wrote about some boy she was crushing on and then killed herself when he married someone else. But that couldn't be further from the truth. The poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, knew a great deal about love, sacrificed her relationship with her father in order to marry the man she corresponded with over almost two years. And this girl knew how to use words.

So that brings us to her words. I love this poem. I'm in awe at the concept in the second and third lines. This kind of love goes beyond the marriage vows that are common among other faiths. But the best part is her recognition that her ability to love now is minimal compared to how she will be able to love after death. Enjoy!

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.