In the morning light of time, a silent bouquet,
I matured, transient yet at peace in my way.
But her hand, so tender and full of grace,
Caresses me gently, reviving my past’s embrace.

A dried bouquet of days once so clear,
Now revived by her youth, so wonderfully near.
In her eyes gleams forgotten splendor and light,
A lifetime cherished, guarded by her love so bright.

Time may fade, yet our serenity shall stay,
A mature man, cherished by her youth each day.
Nurtured and embraced, a dry bouquet so mild,
A lifetime adorned, by her gentle touch beguiled.