On Growing Old Together, a Love Poem


This love poem was written for my husband. We met in 1974, forty years ago. It really does seem like  last year. Growing older together has been a gift to both of us. We have shared so much and grown so much. Love is the one constant in the equation we call life.

This poem is dedicated to my beloved husband and to all who have loved and been loved.


The link below will give you the option of hearing me read the poem. Click on it if you wish to listen. (It takes a few seconds to begin.)



On Growing Old Together                                                 

Will you scatter me over water
or throw me to the winds,
letting me float away?

Will your ashes mingle
with mine one day
when you too are gone?
Ashes to ashes…

Will you take my hand again
and hold me close against the wind?
Will your eyes always smile with mine?
Dust to dust…

Will our hearts travel as one
no matter where that might be?
Will our love be forever?
Ashes to ashes, Soul to Soul.

Two Hearts Beat as One by Alexandru 1988 (Deviant Art)

Two Hearts Beat as One by Alexandru 1988

45 thoughts on “On Growing Old Together, a Love Poem

    • What a beautiful complement! Thank you so much. It’s always such a pleasure to find that someone likes this blog and some of the poems. It’s very kind of you to take the time to leave a comment.

      With best wishes, Mary.


  1. Oh – another beautiful poem. I spread my Mom and Dad’s ashes together in the forest where we lived. – by the maple tree we tapped, by the bonfire pit where we watched the stars together, beside the cabin where we lived while the main home was being built, beside the stream which meandered through the woods, where we walked, and talked, and laughed.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Listen Up! Audio Comes to A Poet in Time | A Poet in Time

      • I know poets are not supposed to meander, but they often do….not you. I guess this is a process question. Your openings are so strong, and wonderfully suited for “speech” articulation, I was thinking you must stride around with those beginnings, first stanzas, letting them simmer on the tongue until the sound is just right.

        And if that is true, are you poeming from, not to, or see it all as circuitous, where the question proffered in any stanza is answered in part, if not all, in each…the inciting question, in my reading, isn’t “will our love be forever?,” but in the lovingly hard and existential scatter, throw, and float away?

        Well, I’ve meandered…and back to basketball, and anyway, don’t give up how the magic works…’cause you sure got it.


        Liked by 1 person

        • Thanks, Doug, for your explanation and your questions. I do indeed get the first thought or image as a sound or line. It definitely simmers “on the tongue” as you put it so beautifully. Where it goes from there is sometimes a mystery–poems have their way of appearing, disappearing and generally transforming themselves until they feel complete. Meandering is good. Enjoy the BB!!


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