Your palms in mine, our love deeply rooted, ever-lit are days’ shadows.

Plummy is the view, thanks not to breeze between seas and trees, but just because of you.

Peace is here. Won is the battle with doubt. Cicatrized are hits by the hastates of grates.

Let us jubilate this evening as the first of forever’s finest, firm in our feelings of fondness’ fancy. : )