Faded pictures of old,
beehives and ruffles,
dust settled memories
of days gone by.
Them skating hand in hand,
the lights dim,
the music sweet and old
to their ears.
Night magic spills to the day,
one ten years older than the other,
beautiful dress, little and sweet,
him in his suit clean and neat.
A few quick words,
excited eyes do meet,
“I do” follows,
magic fills the air.
Then time slips to routine,
the baby comes,
and work persists,
time is not magic.
Torn pictures
lay on the floor,
tears fill the void,
slammed doors end a decade.
Days gone by,
looking back only pictures remain
of happier days,
looking back on beehives and ruffles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem