Adam Wendorff

The Wooden Swing upon our Porch

I often wonder if you see the stars,

or just a glimpse of what I see tonight;

our children catching fireflies in jars,

indifferent to the concept of a plight.

Remember what it felt to be that young?

It often seems tomorrow comes too soon,

and if our final hymn may soon be sung,

we’ll cuddle life away beneath the moon.

My love for you is infinite, as you

begin to age so beautifully and fair,

pretend as if you were a vacant shoe

I’ll be your sock, we’ll make a perfect pair

And while this life may sometimes seem a bore,

The subtleties of life you can’t ignore