Diminished not by years, the oak increased
Its spread of mighty arms across the sky,
The tone of Stradivari does not cease,
It still sings seductively though time pass by,

Just as Mona Lisa smiles her smile
Through tiny cracks in canvas, and as wine
Comes sweeter and still sweeter all the while
Though days cannot recall the ancient vine,

So lovers age together, not aware
Of aging, loving ardently as when
Their youthful passion held them, seeing there
The beauty of their oneness just as then.

Old lovers are no different, oh, believe,
The quality of loving does not leave!

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