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.
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