A poem …

Here I go singing sweet nothings to you The tree-tops are waving in time to our tune And all the grass waving, this glad afternoon, As if we are royals passing by arm in arm. Here I go singing sweet nothings to you Our minds render passion, filling our sights We dance through the passion, this is our time To love and be loved more than ever, entwined. Here I go singing sweet nothings to you. To have and to hold I am yours, you are mine. Until the small hands of night close our eyes Then a crowd of small babies will carry us on. Though we'll end, our love, immortal, goes on. The apples of our eyes shine forever, live on. — Jennifer Knox Jennifer Kno