Fifty years ago, together they stood.
Separated in the photo by a pole of wood.
She, about the age of eighteen,
Unaware of the world to be seen.
He, firm of jaw and strong of hand,
Long a traveler throughout the land.
She, so neat and proper in form.
Shielded from life, ever since born.
He, who tred near and far.
Depending only on the light from his star.
Together they moved through the years.
He, at times would bring her tears.
As two together they traveled now.
His pride forever declining to bow.
A home to care for, and children to raise.
Tasks to perform, with limited praise.
Then age creeping up, while still looking back.
Silver-gray streaks, in long hair once black.
One family gone, another at home.
Old man mellows, as younger men roam.
The day comes when the chill wind blows,
And she moves away from most that she knows.
Dreams of life are met at last.
Given, or earned, things missed in the past.
Alone now, she lives and passes the day.
Daughters and sons come, and take her to stay.
Time moves quickly but the photo is still there,
Showing the young woman with dark flowing hair.
Beside her the one she chose to love.
With belief in God, and heaven above.
The man with whom she spent her life,
Sharing the vows of a husband and wife.

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