We've read about undying love,

As Shakespeare's writings tell,

And Browning's wrote about a love

That time could not dispel.


They'll be no one to phrase for us,

Immortal lines of prose,

And music to this love of ours,

No one will ere' compose.


No sonnets shall we pen ourselves,

For future hearts to share.

No one will ever understand,

The depth to which we care.


Our letters that we’ve saved for years

Shall someday die in flame,

Accomplished their intentions, they

Will never know of fame.


Our flesh shall free our spirits and

Will crumble into dust.

Our souls will live forever, with

Eternal love and trust.

used by permission
Copyright © Ron Bliss
All Rights Reserved 




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