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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #2194726
Written while watching my husband play guitar
One day you'll be too old to play,
And I'll be too frail to sing.
Yet as I sit here in this room,
I find I'm listening.

You strum out the echoes of our love,
You play a rhythm sweet.
I don't know how long I have with you,
But right now you're here with me.

Because it won't always be this way;
We won't always get to dance.
But I'll love you then like I love you now,
If I ever get the chance.
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