I wrote words for you
bold words
words that bled
the whispered words
of lovers
oblivious to all else
happily willingly lost
in a torrid ferment that
neither of us needed
nor wanted to understand
and yet
here we are
a lifetime later,
like gently maturing wine
nothing left to prove
giving of our best, and
even now
I might catch you
standing there
face turned toward
the winter sunshine
eyes still as star-bright
as when we were both
seventeen
*
Graham R Sherwood 11/22
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 