By the Raritan River in an ancient white church
On a New Jersey counryside,
Wedding vows of endearment had just been exchanged
By a proud groom and his beaming new bride.

The biting chill of December rose up from the river bank,
But inside the little church above
A warmth permeated the breadth of the room,
Radiating from the newlyweds’ love

The passions of youth after forty four years
May appear to be somewhat contained,
But the small tender flame that is fed by real love
Will continue to glow unrestrained

The building of love in a real meaning sense
Consists first of a mutual sharing,
Of our hope and our agonies, our joy and our pain,
And of greatest importance, the caring.

The light, gentle squeeze you apply to my hand,
And the brushing away of a tear,
The warmth that I feel in your presence alone,
The contentment of having you near.

These are the things that have welded our love,
Forging a strength that I know
For the remaining years of our lives will insure
That the small, tender flame stays aglow.