SHE’S NOT EVEN EIGHTEEN YET (Rasamindrakotroka Andry Tiana)

She had not reached eighteen’s soft grace,
when time first let him see her face.
No golden chimes, no crowd, no cheer,
just quiet stars that drew him near.

A smile that bloomed like dawn’s first light,
so true, so warm, so feather-bright.
And in that gaze, a world began,
two hearts that danced beneath a plan.

Their meetings, like a whispered song,
where words were deep, and silences long.
With every glance, a vow was spun,
a thread of love, two souls made one.

The seasons turned with gentle pace,
they wove their life in woven grace.
A home, a laugh, a child’s small hand,
all built upon that first heartland.

Now sixty years have graced her skin,
yet youth still lights her soul within.
For love has kept her ever new,
and he, unchanged, still loves her true.

Their days, a crown of quiet gold,
where time stands, and hearts don’t old.

RASAMINDRAKOTROKA Andry Tiana
April 22, 2025
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