Old Lovers

Here’s another poem from my personal site.

D. Doug Mains / Freelance Writer

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.

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