I am an old soul…
Nothing fancy, nothing grand.
An old classic, Frank Sinatra playing
while you offer your hand
for a slow dance in the morning.
A walk in the woods, a belly-ache laugh
while we try to catch our breath
as we run in the meadows of lilies.
A quiet afternoon in the swing,
you, playing with my hair while I read
my favorite Nicholas Sparks novel.
And to end our day,
we’ll bathe ourselves with a blanket of stars
the night sky is our canvas;
we paint our story, we sealed our fate—
hoping heaven would hear our plea.
When it comes to you and I;
nothing is ever fancy, nothing is ever grand—
and that’s what I want.
*image: kateryna hliznitsova / unsplash
