Time 'n beauty are fleeting,
And for ages have left man's heart wanting,
Yearning for a little more,
Even as though man hasn't had enough before.
If one hath lived as I have,
Little new wonders could bechance and impress,
Yet by the heavens above,
Eight, eight summers down, I've got to confess.
Thine beauty, my lady,
The enchanting beauty of thine form and soul,
A beauty most steady,
Still, seasons later, fuddles me beyond control.
Thou hast bewitched me,
Into a fluid wantonness and the stirrings within,
A craving for thine skin,
The morphing of a vine to the solid stalk on me.
A sinner arching in delight,
Burrowing into another in a titillating commune,
The wisdom in the art tonight!
Oh, God!! Times you've said that under one moon.
For four summers, my lady,
Thou hast laughed, layed and walked beside me,
Seen good and bad days,
And still you love and show it in the best of ways.
How could we not love,
How could we not love and treasure what we have,
Seeing that we have lasted,
Through rough patches and our love still is asserted.