Wrinkly, someday

Someday, we'll sit on the patio at 3
Sipping in a summer cup, of chrysanthemum tea
Your fingers, linked between mine
Wrought iron, and glass table in between

Someday, while I cut the blooming flowers
A woven basket on my arm,
In our backyard of little less than Eden,
You'll be the one whistling, a tune
While I giggle, like I am fifteen

Someday, you'll kiss the wrinkles on my forehead,
When I worry away at pickles thrown our way
& you'll pinch my nose, while I stare into your eyes
Feeling the butterflies in my tummy,
Even at sixty.

Someday, this dream just might be real.
Today, I'm just really blessed to have you beside me.