Old Lovers

Walking home a lonely man,

I saw old lovers holding hands.

She a queen and he a sage,

Still swung her door in his old age.

I took this in with eager eyes

For love oft’ hides with gray-haired wise.

A gift — a treasure — I’d come across;

A youthful joy for years of loss,

Refreshing light from a world unknown,

And a fruitful harvest from seeds well sown.