Grandpa’s eyes tag along
Little Son romps ’round the park,
Grandpa turns again five.
When the child pauses
At the end of the tunnel slide,
Grandpa and Little son’s mind
Merge in one and imagine
the day of birth. Canal
Appeared to be glowing
As he made the final exit.
Soft swaddling and kiss…
Over six decades are
Condensed in five years,
Even after his dreams vanished
With autumn leaves,
He still has one clings to him–
Love–that grows against time.
We are the deep river appears to be Slow and placid, We seldom say ‘I love you,’ For we know we do after All theses years together. We may not kiss and hug in public But for each other we worry and care More than the skin-deep touch.
How ignorant to say: ‘They are not all the way up there.’
Nearly half a century of marriage Means nothing to you? Going through the thick and thin of Thorny path that long means nothing to you?
No one can go that road for decades Without love!
We deserve some respect more than You ever know.
Only the rude and shallow streams Dare to criticize the deep old river.
Our love for all and us flow Till we cease and dry.