Age In the Time of Youth

Simple numbers have never captured mine eyes, Useless variables mortals equate; And while her years boast broad scents, matured signs, She’s the richest wine of my taste. I could pluck our talks from these kept pages, Verse the intrigue of her mere presence, While causing this charm to voice for ages; And as I laugh with company, heaven is sent. But in this calm joy, there are flaws she owns. These young eyes may be all the warmth she needs, I could be filed away, entitled alone. This chapter must pass, and our flirt must leave. Although I’ll never catch her quantity, The yearnful youth will always recall thee.