He can often be found drifting unawares in the past,
Reminiscing on the faraway lands he has seen last.
He prefers serenades of Sinatra while his drink pours,
And laughs loudly while sipping a red sea from crystal shores.
He looks up to the philosophers with ancient ideas
And admires a man with a mind much greater than his.
The melodies of reeds and the plucking of cello strings
Are his favorite sounds, besides when his church choir sings.
He has an affluent diction that's not yet been surpassed,
Yet a word as simple as "love" is so carelessly cast.
He makes his intentions clear, but his desires unknown,
And amongst many close friends, he appears oddly alone.
She can often be found drifting grievously in the past,
Reminiscing on the days in which his arms held her fast.
She misses the break in his voice when he whispered "I'm yours",
And cries softly while sipping a red sea from crystal shores.