Through the storms of life, our love holds tight,
An anchor in the tempest, strong and true,
In your embrace, I see a guiding light,
Together, there’s nothing we can’t undo.
In the garden of love, we’ve sown the seeds,
Blossoming emotions that forever bloom,
Through joy and sorrow, our union feeds,
A love so rich, it outshines the moon.
In the realm of youthful dreams, so tender and bright,
There blooms a feeling, like morning’s first light,
A treasure hidden in the heart’s secret cove,
The sweet, intoxicating essence of first love.
It starts with a glance, a shy, timid smile,
A flutter in the chest that lingers for a while,
Innocence and wonder, like stars up above,
Define the beauty of this, our first love.
Hand in hand, we journey through fields of delight,
Underneath the moon’s soft, silver-white,
Every stolen moment, every whispered vow,
In the garden of first love, we both do plow.
The world fades away in the blush of the rose,
As our hearts entwine, a story that flows,
A symphony of emotions, like a cooing dove,
Forever etched in memory, this sweet first love.
But first love, alas, is a fleeting affair,
Like a breeze through the trees, it’s gone in the air,
Yet its fragrance lingers, a gift from above,
A reminder of the magic of that very first love.
So cherish those memories, let them never depart,
For first love’s a masterpiece, a work of pure art,
In the tapestry of life, a treasure trove,
Forever celebrated, this wondrous first love.
In a world where touch and feeling intertwine,
Where the grace of dexterity makes us shine,
Let’s sing a verse of those digits so fine,
Those tools of connection, fingers of mine.
With nimble grace, they dance upon the keys,
Creating music, prose, and memories,
They trace the contours of a lover’s face,
In tender moments, their embrace we trace.
From thumb to pinky, each one has its role,
Together they form a harmonious whole,
The index points the way, with purpose and aim,
The middle, a bridge, in life’s grand game.
Ring finger, a symbol of love so true,
Adorned with bands, forever they’ll woo,
And little finger, petite and so small,
Yet in a handshake, it stands straight and tall.
They pluck the strings of a guitar’s embrace,
Or wipe away a teardrop’s fleeting trace,
In unity, they grasp life’s fragile thread,
Guiding us forward, where destiny’s led.
In gardens, they tend to petals so fair,
In craftsmanship, they shape wonders with care,
With fingers entwined, we express what’s unsaid,
A secret language in every touch, widespread.
So let us cherish these digits, so dear,
For they connect us, remove every fear,
In every gesture, every touch, they play,
A symphony of life, in their unique way.
In the tapestry of existence, they weave,
A story of connection, if we believe,
That fingers, our companions on life’s ride,
Are the bridges to hearts, forever side by side.