What is love, but leaves of changing color?
We are used to one, but we move forward with the seasons,
eventually you will change, continuously same...
Starting at red, looking for warmth,
hoping a heart to kindle, you look for a love,
found one that makes your thumbs twindle, and felt your heart could fly like a dove...
But what color is passion?
Changing ever soon, a shade of purple tears in time,
passions is when you cry with me by the moon, and when you will place yours hands in mine.
Shades of green now grow on a young and strong tree,
and the leaves bustle and flow, we're true lovers it seems,
I hope all is not for show, you think I'm an angel of dreams.
Yet again our passion changes,
blue sapphires of beauty bold,
to you my heart is sold, don't make me forget the love of old.
As our bones grow weak, golden sunlight seems to leak,
I know we'll be forever I'm sure,
hand-in-hand by the shore, our color is the sand,
warm, soft, and adorned.
Eventually turned white,
by days spent well and pure, our love at its finest,
Couldn't resist the light's lure, and now I travel to meet my Highness.
Our color is white, pure soft and bright,
we shone through time down the path along,
Don't forget me now, I'll still be around,
just listen for when the bird makes song.
In the red nest it will lay,
the purple mountains it pass,
and live in green trees of which will last,
in blue rocks and precious stones,
and in the sunlight treasured and lulled..
In the peach sands of time's love,
in nature's sweet call I will always fly...
an angel,
forever,
your dove.
