When We Grow Old

Photo source unknown

When we grow old, you and I
We’ll hold each others hand.
And we’ll still love, you and I
As once in our dreamland.

The trees will bow as we pass
And flowers softly sigh.
And birds will gaily sing our song
The sun will smile up high.

Tranquil in our winter years
Life recalled with a smile.
Hand in hand and both content
That all had been worthwhile.

Copyright © 2011 Norma Martiri

Form: Quatrain


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