Some day, my love,
we’ll stand hand in hand,
no pain nor worry
to tie us to this land.
We shall run nimbly
as children do,
jumping, skipping
across seas of cloud.
The toils and trials
we face each day
will not be ours,
but will be packed away.
Then you can again
look at me
through eyes young
enough to clearly see.
I’ll touch your face
with fingers
no longer gnarled
or twisted with age.
Some day, our treasure
of teeming joy
shall not be
tempered or spoiled
with earthly
trouble or despair.
Memory will not
any longer matter,
for our minds
shall be as new.
Some day, ah, yes,
a thought even better,
we will never
have to say adieu.
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