Love Blossomed 'Neath a Sycamore Tree

Oft' I wonder if that old sycamore tree in the meadow yet stands, Where as youth on languid summer days we sat holding hands; And if our initials within a heart we engraved upon its ancient bole, Have withstood the raging storms or, alas, hath time taken its toll. There in our innocent youth we pledged our love for all eternity, And etched upon our hearts that love and devotion for eviternity. Love transcended the treacherous shoals of life through all these years; Brought us untold joy, and yes, sustained us through our fears and tears. Though our walk is a bit unsteady and our hair is now a silvery gray, We still unabashedly hold each others hands and say "I love you" every day. Lord, how I pray that old sycamore tree in the meadow yet stands, Where our love blossomed on languid summer days as we sat holding hands. Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired