The Autumn of Our Love
Our love, it's not a raging fire,
Consuming all in its wild desire.
No, it's a hearth, softly aglow,
Warming our souls, calming the flow.
The passion of youth has long since passed,
But in its place, a bond built to last.
Our friendship, a sturdy oak tree,
Roots deeply planted, strong and free.
The storms of life have come and gone,
Yet our branches reach ever onward.
Gnarled with time, but unbowed by strife,
We stand tall, and eternal in this life.
Our conversations, gentle streams,
Meandering through memories and dreams.
No longer rapids, rushing, wild,
But serene pools, reflective, mild.
The love we share, a harvest moon,
Bathing us in its radiant tune.
No longer the blazing noon sun,
But with a soft light, our day is done.
Though our steps may be slower now,
And silver threads grace every brow,
Our hearts still beat as one, my dear,
In this autumn of our love, so clear.
For what we have, this precious bond,
It is not the fire of youth beyond.
No, it's the warmth of a lifetime shared,
A love that has been deeply cared for.
So let us sit, and rest awhile,
Watching the world go by with a smile.
For in this season of mature bliss,
Our love, and our friendship, will never miss.
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