Silvery Majesty.

Image by

Image by

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.



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