If years could be booked,
Our pages, lover,
Would spread between
The covers;
To lay our plot,
And the life we sought,
For a setting like no other.

Yet shifting shapes from
Distant dates,
Weigh heavy on our pages;
A ring appears
Throughout the years,
To circle and engage us.

If years were versed
Our lines would rhyme,
Metered in perfect time;
Sonnets would spring,
And ears would ring,
With cadence soft and beautiful.

Those seamless shapes
Of distant dates
Are yet to be our pages.
The ring appears
With smiles and tears
To keep us through all ages.

When words and songs
Fade and fail;
When our bodies grow old
And our minds grow frail;
When the final note
Wanes from this song,
The world will know
Our love won.