For Joss Whedon
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth of the Hellmouth,
far into the breadth of other dimensions,
as high as Serenity’s height
whilst fleeing out of sight.
Till the ends of Faith and Serenity,
I loved thee to the level of every day’s
yearning for science fiction by TV light.
I love thee freely, as Hammer strives for Right.
I love thee purely, as a Doll programmed.
I love with a geeky passion put to use
absolving all old television griefs,
and denying my childhood faith.
I love thee through Willow onto River,
through Sierra onto Echo.
In spring I lose my lost saints,
but love thee still through reruns,
smiling and crying through of all my nights!
And, if the dastardly Fox should so choose,
I shall once again and forevermore
but love thee better after cancellation.