"What if I never find and I'm left behind?
Should I keep hoping for love?"
Lyrics from a favorite song, long ago, sung.
Found you, where my love truly belongs,
Several years it took, but hope remained strong.

No more "What ifs," doubts, all gone,
Our love, still young, with every breath, it's drawn.
Growing old with each lung-filled breath,
Wiser with each "I love you," a vow to outlast death.

Who said love makes us weak?
It renders us gentle, elegant, our words meek.
Describing our love in its second week,
Everything about it, uniquely mystique.

From the possibilities that made us meet,
To the sweetness in every heartbeat.
With you, everything feels so complete,
Honey, when you're around, love's journey is replete.