Enduring Love

I live in a small town with several seniors residences and nursing homes. Every fine evening I see older couples strolling along, holding hands, from their apartments, slowly, together after all these years, close, loving, bonded and still holding hands. Likewise, our neighbors are empty-nesters and again, while still only in their mid-fifties, they walk hand in hand after thirty plus years together. When my partner and I first were considering being a couple he said he just wanted someone to grown old with. I hope we are that fortunate. Our kids think we're already too old for love and romance! This is poem of love, mature love, the kind that grows and deepens and the kind most of us want for ourselves. I dedicate this poem to the love of my life who is away right now and I'm missing him.

Virgin love in all its splendour spreads
a golden light on every place
and lays a translucent hue of rosie dust
over the eyes of the lover's face

and he responds with heart and body
begging to kiss the maiden fresh
with heart in hand and hand on heart
they stroll the avenue of flesh

As time and temper take their toll
the blush has faded, yet the love has grown
maturity adds depth and strength
that newborn love has never known

The lustre fades, twas but all surface
nothing deep in the novel lust
a deeper love has penetrated
built on time and thought and trust


The greying hair and slowing gait
the fading timbre of their voices
hands held tight in life's embrace
support the rightfulness of their choices