When one is young,
love comes easily.
Every warm hello,
every glint in the eye,
every smile, and
every sweet word
carries a beautiful melody.
But as we climb
the stairs of maturity,
we learn that a melody
does not offer a home.
It is true love--
the steady and nurturing hand
that turns a fleeting song
into a timeless piece.
Copyright 2026, Rose Marie Juan-Austin, All Rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem