Oh that the deepest Love
Would come to a heart
Like a hand, tight in a glove
Holding a pen, and there make a start.

Oh that ink were deeds
Sweet memories and smiles,
For just the owners heart who reads
Would I on hearts paper write for miles and miles.

Oh that moments were lasting
And time slow in its swift passing
…Just that all were made in love’s sweet casting.

Time is of present
And oft, a pen love’s tool.
So may the present moments be pleasant,
For we know not the future and of it how cruel.

Oh that loves pen had permanent ink
That of moments, sweet memories and smiles
In ones heart could forever be writ!