By Sandra Jean Turner

Timidly standing in front of the antique mirror,
Pondering her reflection in the early dawn,
She questions her lover, her best friend.
"Will you still love me when all this is gone?"

Carelessly gathered around her ankles
Lay the discarded red silk robe.
Hesitatingly sliding her hands down her body,
Murmurs, "Someday I am going to be old."

With open admiration, he witnesses her exploration,
So beautiful with her heart shaped face,
Perfection standing before him,
Tresses the color of midnight, down to her waist.

Glancing up, she finds his eyes upon her,
Captivated by his loving gaze.
Barely spoken above a whisper, he says,
"Till death do us part. Till my last day.

Gray can settle upon your hair,
And nature will visit in time.
But in these loving eyes of mine
You will always be divine.

My heart is in love with your heart,
The inner being that you behold.
You will always know I love you,
And together we will grow old."

 Previous      Next