When silver frost adorns our weary heads,
And time, the tyrant, bends us to his will,
We shall not mourn the spring that softly fled,
But drink the evening silence, deep and still.
Though steps may falter on the stony way,
Thy arm shall be my pillar and my guide;
My hand within thine own shall ever stay,
Warm as the vows we whispered side by side.
Behold each line that maps thy gentle face,
A sacred record of the joys we knew,
A cartography of our shared embrace,
Where memory blooms forever fresh and new.
Beside the hearth where glowing embers dance,
Our hearts shall beat in rhythm, one and whole;
For age creates a deeper, true romance,
And autumn’s gold illuminates the soul.
This piece explores the profound serenity found in lifelong companionship. It suggests that true romance does not fade with the seasons but rather ripens, finding its most radiant expression in the golden twilight of a life built together.
