Lynette I Love You

Let not cruel age
Your love distort,
Nor heed impetuous time.
Ever hold my heart to yours
Then tell me that you love me.
Tell me that you love me,
Ever tell me.

In that moment when our lips caress,

Love divine, its own embrace.
Of kisses sweet, divinely bless those
Vital, pulsing, thoughts which bind
Each moment’s thrusting joyfulness.
Your love; my love. These fifty years so sure
Of breathing, eating, feeling. We confess it’s
Us, as we have felt and feel both then and now,
and evermore.