Two Young Lovers

This tale of mine, is old, but it is one That's constantly renewed and rewritten. Two young lovers sitting on a park bench; Held hands in the yellow glow of moonlight. Their knowing looks and kisses were fleeting Flashes of bliss, for them, at that moment. There was a deep silence between them. So profound was their love for each other, They required no words to express it. They had reached a realm where the physical Merges gently with the spiritual: Where two strange solitudes become as one. It's the eternal origin of all art. The love between them was most authentic. It was something precious, that cost them nothing; In an age that puts a price on everything. They were connected with teeming Nature; Free from Modernity's rampant madness. The weight of the world passed from their shoulders. The day's troubles drifted away in their Warm embrace. They were just content to be. The stars seemed to shine for them that evening.