Beneath the silver glow of the moon’s soft light,
He walks alone, lost in thought this night.
The years have woven silver in his hair,
But his heart beats young with the love they share.
She was the dawn to his enduring night,
A burst of color in black-and-white.
Though decades have whispered their silent plea,
Her smile remains his cherished symphony.
In the hush of night, he whispers her name,
A sacred incantation, an eternal flame.
The world moves on, but his love stands still,
An anchor in the storm, a testament of will.
He pens her letters that he’ll never send,
Ink-stained confessions that his soul penned.
Each word a testament to love’s fierce hold,
A story of passion, untamed and bold.
She is the muse of his unwritten songs,
The right in a world brimming with wrongs.
In the quiet moments before the dawn’s light,
He feels her presence, his endless delight.
For love is not bound by the chains of time,
It’s a rhythm, a pulse, a reason, a rhyme.
And he, a poet of love’s lost verse,
Cherishes her memory, for better or worse.
So here he stands, where the old oak grows,
A symbol of the love that inside him flows.
For though she’s gone where he cannot follow,
His love for her is a path he’ll always hallow.
In the gallery of his heart, she’s a masterpiece,
A love that started long ago, yet will never cease.
For as long as the stars shall grace the night,
He’ll love her still, with all his might.
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WOW! You have such a marvelous gift for stirring emotions and memories, as well as writing poetry!!!
Greatly appreciated, thank you!