He Loves Me

We hear our old favourites 
streaming out of the past into
our home and because it is
Saturday night, we are dancing.
He holds me tight and firmly
and I feel his body hard
against mine. We are young
not again, but forever young
for he has loved me for a
lifetime creating the exquisite
beauty for me of being cherished
as I do him. Any other lifetime
would have been inconceivable
for the one we have lived has
always been what we planned
and we bow to Dame Fortune
for acquiescing to our need.
We are forever young, the music
of the '50s reminding us that
this is so as we hear plaints of
disbelief that young love could
last, and invitations to indulge
in a never-ending love that
mattered, in the voices long
gone yet so familiar to us
from the past, and so we did.