Will You Poem by me poet yeps poet

Sans all
he sits fidgety now
hoping with hopes
she will bring him his toast
and
she slowly does

he holds her hands
and kisses them
like a brush of a painter
on fresh canvas
she smiles
as if 'twereher lips once
now sans all

he barely smiles
bleak eyes
the fragrance is around
still he as wafts inhales

she is and was ever his
passed fifty years away
now he can't even kiss
she stands far away
he smells foul
so they say

she can't risk it anyway
sans she too is

but still is his
she smiles and says
fifty years ‘twas
like yesterday
he barely whispers
yes another fifty we may stay

now not in years
maybe months hours or a day
sans all we may say