01-28-2016, 11:44 PM
Pensive Glance ( 1st Edit)
You ask why I so often look at you
now that old age has robbed us of our youth.
I say it's simply something that I do
for pleasure, dear, and that is honest truth.
Your eyes, as bright as they have ever been,
still indicate to me the way you feel.
They tell me nothing ever came between
the two of us, and love itself is real.
Your lips, forever ready with a smile,
I know will always welcome with a kiss;
an honest grin without a hint of guile,
reminder of our early nights of bliss.
But now, my love, I see you look my way;
and so I wait to hear what you might say.
Pensive Glance
You ask why do I often look at you
now that old age has robbed us of our youth.
I say its simply something that I do
for pleasure dear, and that is simple truth.
Your eyes, as bright as they have ever been,
still indicate to me the way you feel.
They tell me nothing ever came between
the two of us, and love itself is real.
Your lips, so ever ready with a smile,
I know will always welcome with a kiss,
an honest grin without a hint of guile,
reminder of our early nights of bliss.
I know we’re old and years must have their way.
Still in your face, a glimpse of yesterday.
You ask why I so often look at you
now that old age has robbed us of our youth.
I say it's simply something that I do
for pleasure, dear, and that is honest truth.
Your eyes, as bright as they have ever been,
still indicate to me the way you feel.
They tell me nothing ever came between
the two of us, and love itself is real.
Your lips, forever ready with a smile,
I know will always welcome with a kiss;
an honest grin without a hint of guile,
reminder of our early nights of bliss.
But now, my love, I see you look my way;
and so I wait to hear what you might say.
Pensive Glance
You ask why do I often look at you
now that old age has robbed us of our youth.
I say its simply something that I do
for pleasure dear, and that is simple truth.
Your eyes, as bright as they have ever been,
still indicate to me the way you feel.
They tell me nothing ever came between
the two of us, and love itself is real.
Your lips, so ever ready with a smile,
I know will always welcome with a kiss,
an honest grin without a hint of guile,
reminder of our early nights of bliss.
I know we’re old and years must have their way.
Still in your face, a glimpse of yesterday.