Love? Oh, yes. Don't count the years. Count all the good things. Memories, flash likes comets Fired from some ethereal cannon. No need to light a magic fuse. Just seeing my lady in her armchair Lovely lips smiling 'neath silvered hair, A smile, that draws me back A long-gone seventy-two years Our first youthful party kiss, warm and gentle Her head moved back to smile, I caught
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