In the quietude of evening's embrace,
She'd unwind, lost in the pages' grace,
Her favorite book, a world apart,
While he, content, would play his part.
Not lost, nor lonely in the still,
But peaceful in the time they'd fill,
Her feet, a gentle, playful touch,
Spoke words of love that meant so much.
He'd turn to meet her laughing eyes,
But she'd look away, as if in surprise,
A giggle, a glance, a fleeting jest,
In moments like this, he felt most blessed.
For in the simple, quiet air,
He found a love beyond compare,
No need for words, no need for more,
In these moments, his heart would soar.
