May Our Love Grow Old

• Shae Stewart, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2010

My Husbands blue eyes,a journey unwinds
His dried lips are cracks,with bottomless gaps
His face well aged with wrinkled old lines
His words be directions i'm lost in maps
For the hair on his head be strands of twine
I remain petite,along side his frame
He breathes with compassion and the stench of wine
No one human being is ever the same
From love may he be incredibly sour
May past be apart of mind winding art
With love and desire comes great power
The soul to be fed,to love till we part
My heart be satisfied for now with he
We'll last forever you just wait and see.