I?ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face

She almost makes the day begin.
I?ve grown accustomed to the tune
she whistles night and noon.
Her smiles, her frowns, her ups, herdowns,
are second nature to me now.
Like breathing out and breathing in.
I was serenely independent and content
before we met.
Surely I could always be that way again
and yet?.
I?ve grown accustomed to her looks,
accustomed to her voice,
accustomed to her face.
And I?m so used to hear her say
? good morning ? every day.
Her joys, her woes, her highs, her lows,
Are second nature to me now.
Like breathing out and breathing in.
I?m very glad that she?s a woman
and so easy to forget.
Rather like a habit one can always
break and yet?
I?ve grown accustomed to the trace.
of something in the air
accustomed to her face.?