When I first touched your hand I cannot tell,

For in the mists it lingers with your smile

To resonate much like a soft-rung bell

That gently fades into the silent while;

And when I call to mind our primal kiss,

Of many since, it seems a drop of rain

That fell with others on broad fields of bliss

And mingled with the vast, unsettled main.

So bless sweet time that blurs when love began,

That clouds the memory of our first embrace—

It sparked from just a glim in Cupid’s hand,

And once ignited, warmed the heart’s embrace.

It matters not when love first claimed the heart;

What matters most is we shall never part.