I'm writing now to you my love,
although you are long gone.
Of memories of times now past,
for which my soul does morn.

A lost and sorry mad am I,
still haunted by your face,
your touch, your love, your innocence,
with flesh as soft as lace.

Eyes as deep and blue as lakes,
would lend my soul to weep.
and innocence and love within,
would watch me while I'd sleep.

Now age can't shadow heart's own tale,
and though i am alone.
Those eyes still form within my mind,
that beauty i had known.

Ahh lips, as red and moist as blood,
would kiss my tepid skin.
And the feeling as they touched my own,
would warm my flesh within.

And with a smile upon my lips,
I recall the times gone by.
When I kissed your body gently,
that soft and gentle sigh.

Oh, your body, soft as angels wings,
it drew my watchful eye.
I'd look and see perfection,
of this I can not lie.

And with frightened hands I'd touch your skin,
and unsure arms would hold you.
But as I kissed your fragile lips,
I knew you loved me too.

So old and weary now with age,
but still as lost as then,
I write about my love for you,
with slow and faltered pen.

For memories burn within me,
and I'm not so wise with age,
that the love I felt for you dear,
could be fulfilled on page.