Not many words, only silence,

But there she hoards, the sweater he lends.

Icecream for two, at midnights,

So serene, walking under the street lights.

Filled in her box are chocolate wrappers,

Those letters in his file are not just papers.

Holding hands on the sidewalks,

Endless, deep, meaningful talks.

Flowers he gave, between the pages of her book,

Clutched there for eternity.

Something more is conveyed when his eyes look,

Towards her with subtlety.

The polaroid that they took together,

Unbeknownst to her,

Will stay in his purse, forever.

Cause she feels as light as a feather,

While she lies on his shoulder.

Shoes his daughter gifted befit,

Fits them with tissues, to keep her smile lit,

Such is a Father's love.

Nagging him when he slips,

Caressing him when he sleeps,

Such is a Mother's love.

And as such adorned is their love.

Not many words, only silence,

But it witnesses in nuance, 

Tying them in love, the red string,

As enchanting as the spring.