Twas late summer of my life, and my heart was wrought with strife,
When I happened on a flower of the spring.
And the gentle way he swayed, and the fragrance that he made
Bade my thoughts come round again this wondrous thing.
To me this blossom rare seemed to be extraordinaire,
As an orchid of the night solicits awe.
And the magic in his form does so outrun the norm
That all garden souls stopped to marvel what they saw.
Each time that I returned, some new feeling inside burned,
And rekindled were the sparks of love's first glowing.
The times that I've spent near leave me deeply spent it's sure,
Yet my spirit flies much higher just for knowing.
Like a single rose will say, with its poignancy of bouquet,
"Hurry, love me, for the days we share are brief!"
So this wonder speaks to me, of the way it has to be,
And so dear the moments 'fore the shed of leaf.
I can face the fall of years, and the winter's cold sweet tears,
As my smile falls on the juniper and pine.
And his hand will touch me when, as it couldn't ever then,
And my eyes will fill with love, and he'll be mine.
