Love From Later In Life

Purposely lifting the covers to see her face,
The face I do love an amount I thought,
Would be reserved for my later life,
Yet here is that joy and peace untaught,

Coming so naturally from within myself,
Flowing up to the tips of my fingers,
Growing like warm heather round my heart,
It is pumped all over and lingers,

In each and every muscle, bone, and joint of mine,
If you were to look inside my pupil,
You would see a red fire dancing there,
Giving all it could, never frugal.


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