He in his blue jeans and she in her dress;

Sat on the old swing  and spoke of good things.

Spoke of their hopes and all of their dreams;

Planned for their future on that old swing.

He gazed in the sea of her deep blue eyes;

Lost in the waves;

She gave him a smile.

Her head now on his shoulder;

Relaxed and content;

There on the old swing he held her awhile.

He cleared his throat;

Began to sing;

Lay her aside;

Fell to his knees,

Deep from his pocket he pulled out a ring;

She said yes, right there on that old swing.

Days came and went;

Soon a baby she did carry. 

Abundle of joy, a pure delight;

They said as they held her out there on that old swing that night.

The children have grown;

Have lives of their own;

Left to sit on that old swing alone.

He in his blue jeans and she in her dress;

Sat on the old swing and spoke of good things.

Spoke of their struggles;

Things they discovered;

Planned for their future out there on that old swing.

He gazed in the sea of her deep blue eyes;

Lost in the waves as she gave him one last smile.

Her head now on his shoulder;

Content there forever;

There on the old swing he held her awhile.

He cleared his throat and began to sing;

One last song;

Right there on that old swing.

He in his blue jeans and she in her dress;

Forever together; on that old swing.

~Cathy Pittillo