The Enduring Road

Ever see the old folks cross the road,
hand in hand, with steps so slow?
What has happened to their love—
that fire that once made their young hearts glow?
Once, they were younger, fashionably bold,
eager to comfort, with stories untold,
pleased to give, to hold, to cherish,
a love that neither time nor age could perish.

Have they ever thought aloud,
the love they share beneath life's shroud?
Is it good today, as it was before?
Do they still find joy in each other’s core?
The happiness, the sadness, the moments bright,
all magnified in the fading light.
The pleasantness of a shared embrace,
the way their laughter once lit up a place.

Do they remember those nights so wild,
when passion was fierce, when love was unstyled?
Now, in the silence of twilight’s glow,
do they still dance, though the music is slow?
Have they whispered secrets in the dark,
promises made when life left its mark?

Perhaps they’ve learned what love truly means—
not just in the thrill of youthful scenes,
but in the quiet of mornings shared,
in the simple gestures that say, I care.

For love may shift as years drift by,
from burning flames to a steady sigh.
But in the wrinkles and the silver hair,
there’s a story of love that’s learned to bear
the weight of time, the test of years,
the joy, the pain, the unspoken fears.

Ever see the old folks cross the road,
carrying a love that never grows old?
They may not dance like they did before,
but in each other’s eyes, they still adore.
For love that endures is more than just fire—
it’s comfort, it’s trust, it’s hearts that aspire
to hold on, to stay, to keep each other close,
to cherish the moments that matter the most.

So here’s to the old folks, hand in hand,
walking through life, together they stand.
For theirs is a love that time cannot steal—
a quiet, enduring, unbreakable seal.