Now construed as precious are the jewels worn by her to enthrall,

Perhaps I have journeyed where no one else has had a lover’s call,

Have I waltzed upon hardwood floors clad in Stacey Adams shoes,

I danced a slow dance with her to a song written of her in the blues,

Jewels have minor value as displayed until worn in moonlight by her,

Floors of hard oak glide smoothly when in chase of the one I prefer,

As the blues guitar cries out for her I wonder do her lips need mine,

Starlight and moon dust has influenced the sky to appear divine,

I have to ask a question for fate, will my love grow as years fall by,

My love has been proven no doubt as fifty years fell from our skies,

Elapsing time is too rapid to hold when hearts are melding in count,

I don’t have a moment of diluted time so slow that a man can mount,

May I tenderly kiss a trace of the jewels worn upon an angel’s chest,

Fondly I ask, that I might be allowed, to place kisses upon your crest,

Blues songs are written from pain and anguish built in a lover’s heart,

With war’s draft separation, I cried aloud when it was time to depart,

Precious are the jewels that construe such value of a wedding band,

Refined and polished diamond stones encrusted in gold on her hand,

I’ve held her so tight when dancing at night and whispered in her ear,

Words of goodbye, hidden love for too long, a kiss and a falling tear.

The end. By Pat for Patti. I love you baby!