Ode to the love of my old age

George Brown
By George Brown

I wrote this poem to Yvonne in June 1964, just days after we graduated from high school.

“So Much in Love”

So much in love

What shall I do?

If I tried to forget,

I would only be blue.

The touch of your lips

The sound of your voice,

Controlling my heart

Will leave me no choice.

I can only go on

With this prayer in my heart,

That our love will be wise

And we never shall part.

We had been dating for most of our senior year, but this was no guarantee our love would survive the summer and continue into our college years. I had good reason to be concerned. We had also dated for several months at the end of our junior year, but when school resumed in September Yvonne dropped me like a wet gym towel. It had taken months to woo her back to a going-steady relationship, and I was, shall we say, desperate to win her heart forever. What better way than to declare my undying love through a poem?

I wish I could say it worked, but it didn’t. When college began in the fall Yvonne dropped me again, this time like a bowling ball deliberately thrown into the gutter. Yvonne has her version of how we got back together, but, as I recall, it happened like this.

The short but heartfelt poem declaring my undying love had been tucked in some papers Yvonne had taken to college. As she sat at the desk in her dorm room one autumn evening, a warm breeze began to drift through the open window gently blowing the curtains aside allowing the moon to cast a soft beam of light upon the poem. Yvonne reached down, took the poem into her hands and began to read, and as she did tears of love began to slowly stream down her cheeks; and at that moment her heart melted and I became her one true love.

Wonder of wonders, nearly 50 years later here we are still together. It hasn’t always been easy. We’ve had our ups and downs. We even had a close brush with di…well, I won’t go there. Instead I’ll simply say, through these many years Yvonne has patiently endured and adjusted to my weird ways.

The togetherness of retirement has severely tested Yvonne’s patient endurance, but she has risen to the occasion. In part because she still has a “drop me like a wet gym towel” option – banishing me to the travel trailer. I’ve actually grown accustomed to it because, after what she deems a suitable period of time for reflection, repentance, and recompense on my part, she allows me to return to the house and her good graces.

I guess you could say we have experienced it all – young love, middle aged love, and now that special kind of love that comes with old age. In case your are too young to know, I can tell you that the love of old age includes the romance that sparks young love, the understanding that comes with middle aged love, and so much more. The love of old age is so awesome it can be difficult to put into words, especially poetic verse, but I’ll give it a try.

“These are a Few of My Favorite Things”

Your sweet laughter and the way that you chuckle

Goose bumps all over when we snuggle and cuddle

Holding your hand as we walk by a stream

These are a few of my favorite things.

Your scrumptious cooking is purely delicious

Almost as good as the taste of your kisses

Just like your smile and the way that you sing,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Watching sunsets and planting spring flowers

Sitting on the back porch for hours and hours

Walks in the woods watching birds on the wing

These are a few of my favorite things.

When I am lonely

When I am blue

When I’m feeling sad

I simply remember you’re my favorite thing

And then I don’t feel so bad.

Happy birthday to my dear sweet wife.

George Brown is a freelance writer. He lives in Jackson Township.i