Petal soft, the feel of youthful skin,
warm, pliant, sensuous to the mind,
the thrill of human purrs, in reply.
Exchange of subtle moves, lips that meet
as if by magic, in their welcome.
The years swing round the warming sun.
Magic is still there despite our age.
Eyes tell loving lies to pleasant dreams,
lips still, soft as velvet memories.
More setting suns, more loving thoughts.
Hair that blooms in white; sun opened bud.
Wrinkles, hiding place of happy mirth.
Word of love, welcome now as ever
and gentle thoughts, fill the loving years.

 
 
David Garlick, Revised, March 2007
(on way to sonnet.)