Beneath the amber colored evening sky
two lovers stroll into the quiet night.
Their youthful hopes and dreams you cannot buy,
for dreams are filled with magic and delight.
If I could only warn them one by one
of pitfalls they’ll encounter great and small.
The broken promises that they should shun
for misery and heartache come to all.
But if I did, I know I’d rob them of
those precious verities, those cherished schemes.
The building blocks on which they grew their love
could all be lost without those treasured dreams.
It’s best that I should leave their destiny
to bright sunshine or dark and rainy days.
Until their mischief and tomfoolery
bring offspring and another priceless phase.
I look again with envy, but they’re gone.
Those lovers who stood in the moonlit sand.
Perhaps I’ll get another glimpse at dawn.
For now, please hold my outstretched weary hand.
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