At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands sentinel still
Marking that special
place
Where the fates
conspired
Our souls should meet
Though we purposely
Trod opposing paths
We met at that rustic
spot
And to help you cross
I took your hand
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safe to my
side
And despite the
presence
Of each others
companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone
And in those moments
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that
point on
Would be forever
altered
And were content
With that destiny
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of
alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place oft
revisited
And on such sojourns
We would find renewal
As the energizing
memory
Of that special moment
Assailed our senses
Essentially invigorating
Like imbibing the
waters
From the fountain of
youth
And our hearts would
once again
Resound with
joyousness
And sweet moments of
romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat
faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of
blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love laid down
Through all our years
By returning to the
place
Of loves wondrous
inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the
favour
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