A Rusty Locket and Muscadine Wine
In the hush of twilight’s gentle embrace,
A locket swings, a whisper of grace.
Its surface tarnished, like memories confined,
Yet within its heart lies love intertwined.
Muscadine wine spills dreams on the floor,
Sweet as our laughter from days long before.
With every sip, I taste summer’s glow,
The warmth of your presence in each mellow flow.
Your fingers once traced the locket's old seam,
While shadows danced softly in the light of our dream.
We spoke in hushed tones that only we knew,
As secrets unraveled beneath skies so blue.
Oh, how time has weathered both silver and gold,
Yet treasures remain in stories retold.
Each clink of our glasses sings songs from the past—
Moments like fireflies that flicker and last.
The rust may adorn it with tales of despair,
But love finds a way to breathe life into air.
For what is this trinket but proof we have soared?
Through storms and through silence—our spirits restored.
So let us raise glasses filled with sweet wine,
To a rusty old locket and love so divine;
For though seasons may change and years intertwine,
In the heart's quiet chambers forever you shine.
|