Staring in you beauteous eyes,
I sometimes spy an older you,
in a mellow future dream,
of utter trust and silent understanding.
A vision of silvery majesty,
luxuriating in spent urgency,
as need blossoms into sharing,
along ages of lilting laughter.
A lake filled with tears of joy,
to relax our still-smiling bones in,
with the beat of our contented hearts
singing lullabies to one another.