When you and I turn old and gray
With silver memories neatly tucked away
We'll smile at Mary's role that night
Hands clasping hands- with a touch just right
A joyous heart knows no disguise
To witness love in such trusting eyes
We'll always embrace the urge to pray
When you and I turn old and gray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem