Walking in the wood together,
Hand in hand and wondering whether,
Soft the grasses gently calling
Grasped within a dream we’re falling.
Fumbling, forward without thinking,
Tumbling downward ever sinking,
Parents in our heads are quaking,
Love for you is now awak’ning.
As we kiss our hearts are soaring,
Gaze upon the one adoring
Lay within fair fields of glory,
We’ll begin our own love story.
Peter Lowell Paulson
April 18, 2012
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