04-02-2022, 03:10 AM
Forgiving
I felt the joy a springtime morning brings
the day you sang your heart to me, alone.
You offered me a song that I still sing,
its melody, the dearest gift I own.
When nights were young, affection raw and bare,
hot pleasures blazed among our souls like fire.
We danced on glowing embers without care,
and fanned the flames that sprang from pure desire.
Last night we peeled through books of photographs,
and had to smile at how we looked back then.
Between the pages, notes that made us laugh,
a message written sometime way back when-
that love is forgiving, makes life worth the living- still true,
and sure enough, it has steadily carried us through.
I felt the joy a springtime morning brings
the day you sang your heart to me, alone.
You offered me a song that I still sing,
its melody, the dearest gift I own.
When nights were young, affection raw and bare,
hot pleasures blazed among our souls like fire.
We danced on glowing embers without care,
and fanned the flames that sprang from pure desire.
Last night we peeled through books of photographs,
and had to smile at how we looked back then.
Between the pages, notes that made us laugh,
a message written sometime way back when-
that love is forgiving, makes life worth the living- still true,
and sure enough, it has steadily carried us through.