Just two, that's all, stuck in his quiet loom
-not silent: distant chat and laughter comes,
Wishing for peace, but only receiving doom
Into the space where his pair so their sums.

To measure out their lives in these few hours,
In which failure takes their hope,
but surprises them with bright flowers,
Finding ways to live and trying to cope,

With these feelings all bunched up inside
Small looks, tiny smiles, hearts race
Walking together hands by their side
Smiling as the sun kisses his face

And so, reluctantly, we take our stance
And start our brief, but exciting romance.