Maybe I'll so bold

As to grow beautifully old

With my freckled face telling

The stories of my life 

In lines

Read by touch.

When I laugh the crinkles

Show you the magic

Of my made moments. 

Perhaps I'll be so bold 

And never do as I'm told

Creating a life of wealth and wonder.

My house filled with hazy memories,

Not things,

And my afternoons enjoyed

With tea and cookies

And stories of days gone by. 

Perhaps I'll be so bold

As to create and hold

A peace that I once envied. 

A life free from unwanted boredom

A home dirty with laughter and laundry. 

And, hopefully, you. 

I hope you grow boldly old with me.