Forgive me for it doesn't rhyme, but it was never meant to

Our story is a strange one that crossed the sea,
You gave me butterflies and expensive phonebills.
Despite where we came from, you and me were meant to be,
My head said it was crazy but my heart told my head it would be ok.

Ours is a story of paper aeroplanes and homeland security,
Purple dresses, red landscapes, garish lights and Indian spices.
In our eyes its not a common story but its ours just the same,
Its a tale that includes music, spooning and strange but wonderful coincidences.

From our little box of memories,
A writer of fiction would struggle to make our tale believable.
But happiness has its roots in some formula,
That physicians and mathematicians have yet to discover.

You brought me from the land of heather, thistles, wind and rain,
To alien, for me, 105 degree weather and Mormon town.
You showed me that home is not the land that begat me,
But where the heart is.

As I sit here contemplating the right words to say,
I think of the way the light catches your face.
And think how lucky I am for that pleasure to be mine,
In you I see a lifetime of better days and opportunities.

Together we made that jump into the great unknown,
Because we knew that a second chance might not come along again.
Let's not be scared of what we cannot see,
We have survived the darkest time and now we have the lighter road ahead.

Como no?