A soft warm breeze to gently blow,

And rustle leaves above;

A meadow full of flowers grow,

The calling of a dove.

Two lovers walking hand in hand,

Beside a bubbling brook;

Exchanging every now and then,

A soft word and a look.

A feeling of companionship,

Just simple things itís true;

These are the things that I love most,

Of all my time with you.

And later on when years have passed,

We still can share this time;

By looking at the memories stored,

There safely in our mind.

© 2002 Loree (Mason) OíNeil

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