Tell her that the years have been kind to her,
That there is still that sparkle in her eyes,
Tell her that shes lovely in the morning
That shell be lovely til the day she dies.
Dont tell her that she used to be good-looking,
Dont tell her that the neighbours looking fine,
Dont say that her ideas are old fashioned
Or that her viewpoints are hard to define.
Love's no gaudy bauble given lightly in youth
Thats tarnished with the passing years
but is a thing of joy and truth
outlasting age and sorrow's tears.
True beauty is a spiritual thing,
brighter than all silver and gold
- it does not tire or idly find fault
but glows yet brighter as it grows old.
Tell him that hell always be your hero,
Your knight in shining armour to the end
Tell him you are grateful that through the years
Through thick and thin hes always been your friend.
Dont say he has been a lousy lover,
Dont tell him that he has become a bore,
Dont nag him til he wants to escape you,
Then curse him as he rushes out the door.
Words of love, once bravely spoken,
cannot be revoked, repealed;
the wounds of love are sure and deep
and in that fiery crucible
the heart is made anew, annealed.
Love is a jealous master, a harsh mistress
and will not countenance easy familiarity.
She demands some new and potent
sacrifice each day; the routine and the
commonplace are her mortal Enemy.
Prove to her that she can rely on you,
And show her that you are her greatest fan,
Let him know you hold him in high esteem
That hes a fine example of a man.
When the ups and downs of life assail you,
And when it seems that everything is wrong,
That is when you stand shoulder to shoulder,
Present a front thats united and strong.
Love is a rainbow, a prism, a jewel.
Who would casually cast it aside - only a fool!
Time is a lens through which Love peers,
a macical lantern that shows coloured scenes
of days bright and clear.
Relish each swiftly passing moment
- for none shall ever come again.
a kind word, a gentle gesture
acts as balm upon life's pain.
Hours and minutes are rare gifts,
petals on a flowing stream:
the heart is an enchanted country
and Love is her true Queen.
That there is still that sparkle in her eyes,
Tell her that shes lovely in the morning
That shell be lovely til the day she dies.
Dont tell her that she used to be good-looking,
Dont tell her that the neighbours looking fine,
Dont say that her ideas are old fashioned
Or that her viewpoints are hard to define.
Love's no gaudy bauble given lightly in youth
Thats tarnished with the passing years
but is a thing of joy and truth
outlasting age and sorrow's tears.
True beauty is a spiritual thing,
brighter than all silver and gold
- it does not tire or idly find fault
but glows yet brighter as it grows old.
Tell him that hell always be your hero,
Your knight in shining armour to the end
Tell him you are grateful that through the years
Through thick and thin hes always been your friend.
Dont say he has been a lousy lover,
Dont tell him that he has become a bore,
Dont nag him til he wants to escape you,
Then curse him as he rushes out the door.
Words of love, once bravely spoken,
cannot be revoked, repealed;
the wounds of love are sure and deep
and in that fiery crucible
the heart is made anew, annealed.
Love is a jealous master, a harsh mistress
and will not countenance easy familiarity.
She demands some new and potent
sacrifice each day; the routine and the
commonplace are her mortal Enemy.
Prove to her that she can rely on you,
And show her that you are her greatest fan,
Let him know you hold him in high esteem
That hes a fine example of a man.
When the ups and downs of life assail you,
And when it seems that everything is wrong,
That is when you stand shoulder to shoulder,
Present a front thats united and strong.
Love is a rainbow, a prism, a jewel.
Who would casually cast it aside - only a fool!
Time is a lens through which Love peers,
a macical lantern that shows coloured scenes
of days bright and clear.
Relish each swiftly passing moment
- for none shall ever come again.
a kind word, a gentle gesture
acts as balm upon life's pain.
Hours and minutes are rare gifts,
petals on a flowing stream:
the heart is an enchanted country
and Love is her true Queen.
