Ruth S. Ozanich
Old Love - Poem by Ruth S. Ozanich
Some think love is for the young
And Fool's illusion Time,
But I think love is for the old,
For you I'll sing my rhyme!
Hot young love is passion's tool,
Gluts itself, and asks for more,
Often discontent, feels Fortune's Fool,
Walks out and slams the door!
Old love grows along with Time,
Builds its own illusion
Satisfies itself, in satisfying,
Finds Love's own conclusion.
Yes, I'll I sing of you, Old Love,
And Happy Years we've known,
Reaping harvests of the Lasting Love
That we have sown!
Comments about Old Love by Ruth S. Ozanich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye