She was young then, firm then, “hot” then –
The night that they were wed –
His lust for her overwhelming –
Her lingerie-clad – on the bed
She was tireder, “quieter,” coyer, –
Dressed in her t-shirt – beckoning from the bed –
His love for her growing, and for the
Children in the next room – finally abed.
She is plumper, softer, greyer –
Than on the night they wed –
His love for her mature – complete now –
He’s truly happy – when all’s done and said
[A Poem of 25, 35, 55]
Padre
Photo link: #2019picoftheweek : Home Sweet Home
That’s touching, moving, lovely
LikeLike
Home sweet home, indeed. Nicely done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely revery!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Making love with children in the house is an art form. This poem is sweet, without being saccharine–celebrating mature love with a knowing heart.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so sweet and tender, how love matures.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely poem about love through the ages.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Need and discretion, not always an easy blend…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Every stage of life and love is to be treasured….all unique, but I think the last one is precious as we love unconditionally.
LikeLiked by 1 person